Trinkets

Those lurid trinkets,

Cheap imitations,

The obvious fakes in the treasure box,

They shimmer and shine,

Glow and sparkle,

While holding no conceivable value.

 

A formidable array of garish colours,

Supplied by market stalls, vending machines,

Toy shops.

 

Weightless, tasteless, worthless,

A waste of time and plastic.

 

A child sees them and smiles,

Her innocence neither knows nor cares,

What gems are made of.

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