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Image for the poem My Broken Ring

My Broken Ring

It's not a big deal
But I'm devastated

Ten dollar thing
Meant much to me

Worn with pride
Cracked in two

Inevitable?
Or am i fool?

Went back and they don't even sell it anymore.
Head hung low, goddamn it.

It symbolized connection.
Atop it's splendid aesthetic.
It matched; pretty, smooth, powerful.
Holding onto myself and the Hunter's Moon within it.

No one but i, would describe it as majestic.
But it's exactly what it was.
It symbolized what i wore it for.
And with a bend of my finger, it was done.

Naked fingers grasp for something.
To fit as precise as it did.
Vestigial, i will keep it with my keepsakes,
For the sake of safe keeping.

Gone, it changes nothing.
Of how i feel or how i will.
But i enjoyed the thoughts it conjured,
When i so repeatedly would stare.

Fidgeting around with nothing to spin.
Meditative for the reason it performed.
Meditative of the person it embellished.
Another loop in position that cannot take it's place.

A sort of eulogy has become.
Needed, like a lost part of me.
It was unneeded in the sense that my smile needs not a halo.
But goddamn it, I'll miss that ring.
Written by DCLXVI_1989 (Garrett Asa Hughes)
Published
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