Don’t drop your needle in me You’ll never find it. Probably shouldn’t be playing with needles, anyway.

Beneath the captain's bed it may lie, a chest of secrets hard to pry. With iron teeth and a heart of gold, it hides the maps to treasures untold.

Floating through untamed waters with all the shades of blue, Beware of my titanic strength. I am still, but deadly too. I’m a metaphor for things unseen unless you take a dip, because there’s more to me beneath the surface, but this is just the tip.

You serve me, but the person you serve me to doesn’t eat me. What am I?

I’m a note to a friend and a national monument, but I fit within an envelope. What am I?