Strings of me are what girls want.

White, pure, and ound.

Though as I lay upon your neck,

I never utter a sound.

I come in many sizes,

Pulled away from the sea.

From an oyster shell to a jeweler,

I am set out in the light to gleam.

A lady walks by and sees me,

At that moment I know I caught her eye.

She clasps me around her neck, and looks.

As she smiles at me and says, "These are mine"


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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