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Sep 28. 2026
I wear no door, yet guard what’s inside, With a little metal heart I quietly bide. I have a shackle, but never a horse, Turn the right secret, and I yield my force. What am I?
Sep 28. 2026
I wear no door, yet guard what’s inside, With a little metal heart I quietly bide. I have a shackle, but never a horse, Turn the right secret, and I yield my force. What am I?