Wooden beads,
Glass is shiny and looks of gems,
Plastic can fool, great for pretend,
Metal is elegance, cool strength,
Stones individual, in colors and shape,
I stand in line, along with others,
I stand with hope of universal change,
I hold a string of rounded wood,
For his holiness to bless if could.
Of my inspiration,
I begin to fidget, with my beads,
I choose only the odd, and misshapen,
To remind me of the imperfect earth I love.
I stood in line with others.
