She stares at that ring on her finger
|
with a far away look in her eyes
|
She thinks of the memories that linger
|
of the good days that quickly flew by
|
|
And she remembers the day
|
When a young man would say
|
that he'd found the love of his life
|
She gave him her hand and he placed on a band
|
and asked her if she'd be his wife
|
|
And some may value its silver
|
And some may value its gold
|
But she knows no greater value
|
than the memories it holds
|
|
She added a stone when the children were born
|
and her husband now looks down from above
|
She's lived a good life as a mother and wife
|
and the ring is a symbol of love
|
|
And her friends know when to leave her alone
|
they can tell she needs time to cry
|
She stares at that ring on her finger
|
with a far away look in her eyes
|
|
-----------------
|
The Ring
|
| Adam Gregory |
