The beads on my neck
Well, for first, they were a gift from you.
The colour so beautiful as wine, were a
contrast to the pale skin of mine.
The pretty stones carefully sown together,
now mine!
The beads on my neck are the careful collection
of my memories, with you.
Memories of how boyishly handsome you
were, struggling with nervousness and excitement and this curious question in
your eye
"Will she like it?"
The beards on my neck were a quiet surprise!
The beads on my neck are the consolation
when my days are gloom and in happiness conveniently forgotten
A member that was new, now gotten used to
My hands search them for courage and
comfort, for they are my only console, only console..
The beads on my neck, shattered today, the
weight of the stone bore the silk thread down
The thread, did try on its own to bear the
stones, but the stones.. the stones.. Oh!
so heavy.. the stones..
Tell me what do I do?
Mend the broken beads or my broken heart
now?
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