My mom wears a ring,
On her left ring finger,
It used to be beautiful,
The thoughts still linger,
The scent of the silver,
The light of the diamond,
The time it was displayed,
On one knee,
On one island,
These lingering thoughts,
They bring tears through the night,
What irony, what surprise,
After once being filled with delight,
After years of fighting,
After years of pain,
She still wears the ring,
But now it looks
Plain

looking in my mirror
i see nothing wrong
figuring out now
i was beautiful all along
imperfections, i have them
but its no big deal
its just a way of proving
that im 100% real
i may not be attractive
but im sure great to be around
the queen of self-confidence
shall i be crowned

If I wore a ring,
And it's beauty was muted,
Could I still wear it?

"Can I see them?" He asks
He rolls up my sleeves
And sees,
Nothing...
I point to my hip,
"They are here" I say,
His face goes blank,
And reality takes its place,
"Oh god",
He says, and he pushes his face,
Into my arm...
"Im sorry" I say,
His head,
His eyes,
They meet mine,
"Never be sorry" he says,
He takes me into his chest,
"You are loved, I love you" he says,
With tears welling in his eyes,
His beautiful oceans,
Turn to flooding red seas...