Rings

What happens to rings?

Some of the are trashy made for decorations
Other rings are made off gold and diamonds
And have a serious implication.
I had a ring once but threw it away made
I feel hemmed in dislike the idea of
Belonging to someone, even in matters of love.
Still, rings keep circulating from finger 
To finger, an endless dance of commitment
That didn’t stand the test of time.
The bond between us is our hearts unity
Which only death can erase.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace