I can be the beginning of a duplicitous game or a potentially shady company A shy soul may not want to come out of my embrace I can also be a discarded home found on a sandy beach

The Obelisk in washington, the seven wonders of the world. We all are this, forevermore.

With needles and threads in a row, A fabric dance, to-and-fro. In stitches and seams, It's more than it seems, Crafting tales with each rhythmic flow.

Thin as paper, bright as day, shows you things far away

A shield of fabric in your hand, When skies weep, I take my stand. Above your head, I spread wide, To keep you dry from teardrop tide.