I am a punctuation mark that can join words or sentences.
Without me, sentences might fall apart.
What am I?
A comma
I connect clauses and phrases alike,
Without me, sentences would spike.
What am I?
A conjunction
I show action, state, or being,
Without me, a sentence has no meaning.
What am I?
A verb
I’m not a straight line, that’s for sure.
My shape is round, a closed curve pure.
What am I?
A circle
What has to be broken before you can use it?
An egg
I am a literary device; I make comparisons.
Using "like" or "as," I show relations.
What am I?
A simile
I’m a number, but I’m not whole.
You can find me between numbers; that’s my role.
What am I?
A fraction
I modify nouns with details that matter,
Describing size, color, or how things scatter.
What am I?
An adjective
I have four equal sides and angles right.
My name is a shape, easy to recite.
What am I?
A square
The more you take, the more you leave behind.
What am I?
Footsteps
I hold many stories, from start to end.
Turn my pages, and I’m your friend.
What am I?
A book
I’m an opposite; I contradict.
Find my pair, and we don’t conflict.
What am I?
An antonym
I mean the same as another word,
A twin in meaning—haven’t you heard?
What am I?
A synonym
I am a three-dimensional shape.
My faces are all rectangles, that’s my trait.
I can hold your books or your shoes.
What am I?
A rectangular prism
I have a head and a tail but no body.
What am I
A coin
I start with a topic sentence and end with a conclusion.
I can be persuasive or full of confusion.
What am I?
A paragraph
I’m a math operation that’s fair,
Splitting things equally, I always care.
What am I?
Division
I show time, but I’m not a clock.
I tell you when something happens—tick-tock.
What am I?
A verb tense
I’m the distance around a circle,
Measuring its curve like a twirl.
What am I?
Circumference
I’m not alive, but I grow.
I don’t have lungs, but I need air.
What am I?
Fire
I’m a group of lines, a poet’s pride.
With rhythm and rhyme, I’m often tied.
What am I?
A stanza
I sound the same but mean something new,
Spell me differently, and I’ll still confuse you.
What am I?
A homophone
I give life to objects, making them act alive,
Though they're just words, they seem to thrive.
What am I?
Personification
I’m the number you multiply by itself to find the area of a square.
What am I?
The side length
I am always in front of you but can’t be seen.
I’m something you’ll never outrun, no matter how keen.
What am I?
The future