"You think that giving me a gift
A token of your affection
Will infect my mind
And flood me with memories of you
But you don't know me that well
Not as well as you think you do
You don't understand my heart
Or the way that my mind works
You think that having something of yours
Something more than your heart
Something that is tangible
Will bring me back to your door
As if a token of affection
A tangible, textured gift
Will bring me back to your door
If I didn't have the desire to be there
In a way you have a good plan
In the fact that I have to return it
But you have failed to see the truth
You haven't seen the potholes
Which I'm surprised at
You usually over-analyze
Not under-analyze something so precious
Something that means so much to you
Just because I have your gift
Just because I have something tangible
Something that means something to you
Doesn't mean I have to see you again
I can drop it off on your doorstep
I can slip it into your mail slot
I could hand it to one of your coworkers
I could give it to one of our friends"
~Grace Marshall
From my poem, "The Ring"
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