I'm thin, sharp, and hard to find among a stack of hay.

I have legs but cannot walk, a face but cannot talk. Many gather 'round my girth, for feasts and games and scholarly mirth. What am I?

Guarding blooms with pointed grace, A watchful knight in nature's place. Pierces skin, a painful fame, Yet beauty's guardian is its name.

Often found in subways, one must pay to pass. At least that's the concept, as most simply step over my ass.

have four legs but never run. I have a back but never ache. I have two arms but no hands. I am the best place for a nap.