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Rated: E · Poetry · None · #2333465
Written in 1997 on my last day of English after a test in High School. English Sonnet.
Stolen by scourges
And fired in forges,
I feel so cold
Yet still I’m sold.

Made often of gold
And precious to hold,
I’m reflection bright
Stealing breath on sight.

Girls smile delight
Be sure I’m on tight,
In forges of steam
I glitter and gleam.

I’m worn by every king,
I’m nothing but a ring.
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