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