The Ring Poem

I got a ring from my parents for my twenty-first birthday.

It’s metal, shiny, and plain. I like its simplicity.

Engraved on the outside of the ring, in italics,

is the phrase “One Day at a Time.”

When I was first given the ring, the text was painted over in black,

but it began to chip away in places.

So, I scratched off all of the black paint in the letter-shaped grooves.

Imprinted on the inside of the band is “Happy 21^st Birthday.”

I am somewhat worried that it’ll start to fade

after years of putting on and taking off the ring.

I wear the ring on the middle finger of my right hand.

The inside edges are slightly rounded

to make it easier to take the ring off and put it on.

I want it to end up with my youngest grandson after I die.

My own grandfather died before I was born,

and when I was a teenager, my two older male cousins

and I were each given one of his special rings.

I keep that ring in my room and only wear it on special occasions

like Christmas, Veteran’s Day, or my grandfather’s birthday.

I definitely don’t wear it as often as I wear the ring

That I got from my parents for my twenty-first birthday.