For my 9th grade graduation,
I received
my first real ring.
My parents
thought that it would be
The best
gift they could bring.
It wasn’t
very often that
Our presents
were in gold.
We weren’t
rolling in the bucks
And I had
not cajoled.
A friend of
mine had gotten one,
An opal,
center-set,
With diamond
chips surrounding it,
A style I
can’t forget.
So when I
saw my ring, which in
Its middle
held a pearl
With a
little sparkly flower,
I was not a
happy girl.
To me, a
pearl seemed older,
Meant for
someone middle-aged.
I don’t
remember if
My
disappointment was assuaged.
I’m sure
they knew my feelings
But it
couldn’t be exchanged,
So I wore
that ring, but how I felt
About it
never changed.
It resides
now in a box with
Other
jewelry from my past
And as for
rings I haven’t loved,
That pearl
one was the last.
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