Today in the truck, I came upon a thought,
which led to others, which led to a lot.
In winter, I can't wear these bracelets anymore.
They won't go under the sleeves that I've wore.
Maybe I'll buy a glove for one hand,
So that I'll still feel the security of the band.
Hey beetle-bean, your idea isn't so bad,
I think I might carry on the Look like you had.
Why do I love these bracelets of mine?
Why do I hold on to them like a lifeline?
Because unlike most things in life, I simply can.
I can literally count on them, unlike man.
I know that they'll be with me and never leave,
No matter what I say or do or believe.
When I have nothing left to hold on to anymore,
I can hold onto my bracelets, because that's what they're for.
When others glance at them, they see the same as I do.
All the beads of varying colors; bronze, brown, and blue.
We see the same thing and agree on the fact
That my bracelets are bracelets, nothing abstract.
No one argues that the wood is bone,
Or that all the colors are black, and the metal is stone.
No one tells me that I can't have them,
And no one pleads that they aren't real "gem".
No one decides that the bracelets don't exist,
And no one cares about the details that they've missed.
It's the simplicity of the bracelets that draws me in.
They are something to keep and hold onto, once again.
(Just an fyi on this poem, yes, there are a lot of personal references in here, which probably don't make a lot of sense to the outside reader. For that, I apologize, but do feel free to ask questions!)
YOU ARE READING
The Trials
Poetry1st place winner in the 2017 Mystic Awards! These are poems that were written during a really difficult chapter of my life, and writing them helped me to survive it. I hope you find something in them.
