It can hang or be stuck, Done on walls, trains and trucks, A game for the kids, Or through phones, as adults.

A living line of green I stand, Between two plots of careful land. I block the view, but not the breeze, Shaped by hands and buzzing bees. What am I?

It begins a race, Or stops a game A bird's call for a mate, Or a human's, on the sidewalk

Q Tongue Iceberg Finger Hint: I complement most and am kind of a synonym of the last.

Something that adorns your chest up. Rubies, diamonds, and gold, oh my!