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The Ring
Folder:
Poetry It burned my finger for months,
Gold and silver branded to my flesh,
The mark of an inherent sinner.
Wrapped in betrayal and sadness,
It was presented to me.
And with a fake kiss and a promise,
I allowed the mark to be made.
I allowed it to control me,
To own and punish me when everything wasn't right.
Now that it's gone, the gold and silver stripped away,
The teardrops of diamonds missing,
I can finally be free of your possession.
I can be with who I love,
And not worry or care about the consequences.
Without my hateful ring,
I can truly be free.
