Chained

Dylan Donine, Staff Writer

I save every chain

That to me has ever been gifted.

I think of your faces and names

Every time each chain is lifted.

 

The chains have pendants attached

That serve a purpose none other

Than to bring many memories back

That are held in their dull silver colors.

 

Tucked away in a box

In the back of a top drawer

Is where I hide so many pieces

Of  jewelry I wear no more.

 

Gifts of love and gifts of thought

Are things to me my old lovers brought.

They came and went and left behind no trace

Except for the chains I wear beneath my face.

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