Snitches drop me on their pals; dealers bag me up; Roosevelt rides on my face.

Magic fills it's core, A wave can light the dark or open up a door. Made of wood or polished bone, with feather, hair, or heart, In a wizard's trusted hand, it bring the spells to start

I was born with a twin, like a sock, but unlike a sock, I go on hands, not on feet. I'm not like a mitten either, cause I have openings for each of your fingers. What am I?

Most people put their clothes in it. Some hide skeletons in it. What is it?

A sock lets your big toe poke through, a doughnut has one in its middle too.