Cups, containers, caskets, and cans
What do you fill with empty hands?

Though everyone has had me, none has ever noticed when they lost me.

I have feathers, but I don’t fly.
I have legs, but I don’t walk.
I am constantly being used
and never get any rest.
Yet no one ever says thank you.

With bloodless strokes I cut deep.
Without me, those who use me would be up a creek.

I can run, but never walk.  I have a mouth, but I don’t talk.  I have a head, but I never weep.  I have a bed, but I never sleep.  What am I?