You may remember that I lost my wedding ring.
Which was really a lousy thing.
Cuz’ it was treasured bling.
Made my heart sing.
Now, all it does is sting.
When I think of that ring.
Not quite the emotion it was meant to bring.
A problem no doubt: A finger with no ring.
A left hand all naked, without any bling.
What kind of loser loses her ring?
The losingest kind: a true ding-aling.
And to replace it? Oh my. ChaCha – ching.
I searched high and low, but no success did it bring.
I was still a sad girl with a lost, lonely ring.
But then one day, my husband did bring
an itty bitty pouch, all wrapped in string.
When I looked inside, my heart grew wings.
It was the shiniest, sparkliest, most beautiful thing.
Oh and bling. Did I mention the bling?
Needless to say, I’m no longer a girl without any ring.
And to this ring, my friends, I’m sure to cling.
Here ends my tale. Badda boom badda bling.
