In the realm of iron's humble chip,Where worth begins with a modest grip,At 250 rupees, its value does dwell,A simple piece, yet its tale we'll tell. Transformed into a horse's sturdy shoe,Its price leaps forth, a thousand anew,From fields to streets, it bears the load,A symbol of strength on every road. Needles fine, from this chip they're spun,Threads of life through fabric run,At ten...