Crap Poems part 7 – Necklaces

Welcome to another Crap Poem as part of the continuing promotion of my Creative Coping Strategies campaign.

Once again, for a bit of fun, I’ve created a short poem about jewellery and how my relationship with everything sparkly has evolved over the years.

Jewellery is such an important part of who I am, but it’s probably such a mundane thing to the everyday man. Hopefully you can get an idea of why I feel this way and how these dazzling, distracting, colourful items help me by reading the poem.

I’m sorry, but I’ve chosen to rhyme again (it is supposed to be fun, you know!)

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Necklaces

Slumped on a stool
In front of a mirror
I toyed with her jewels
While she slaved over dinner

Big sparkly rings
And pearly white chains
Hid me in childhood
From divorce addled shame

They made me a woman
Obsessed with the colour
Of my own collection
Jewels bright, pain gets duller

Why live in a world
Filled with darkness and grey
When you can look on in awe
Through a dazzle filled day?

Ghetto gold chains
A silver name tag
There’s always a spare
In the depths of my bag

Instead of displaying
My brain that’s a mess
I flash them my jewellery
It hides my regrets

But just like a magpie
Now MY child craves
Her own mothers sparkles
The neon’s her faves

My treasure’s not safe
But just like my mother
I let her play on
It’s really no bother

Slumped on a stool
In front of a mirror
She toys with my jewels
As I eat my dinner

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I’ve gone from a girl playing with my mums stuff to a woman watching on, praying that my necklaces don’t get broken. But, in the grand scheme of things, if it means my daughter spends time with her broken mum in this room, then where’s the harm?

Thanks for reading 💜