The Ring Poem by Mary Nagy
The Ring
How does it feel to wear it?
How can you keep it there?
You must hate being reminded
of how much he use to care.
It doesn't really fit you.
It's just a size too small.
But then, did he never tell you
that it isn't yours at all?
Do you ever wonder
what it is that people see
when you show them all your finger
wearing the ring he bought for me?
Very well thoughtout as are so many of your works.A ring and a reminder part of the same package.Brilliantly put.Love Duncan
Very much said in just twelve lines. Full marks for making such a lucid (and moving) cryptogram
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 2:39:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Stirring write, Mary... a lot to be said of (in) this poem! Brian