Copyright ©1982, 2014 John Wm Beckner - All Rights Reserved

I was in the hospital about a week ago
I saw a man, and I just had to know
He saw me staring and said, "What's up, bro?"
I answered, "Mr T was the only other with more necklaces to show."

"These aren't necklaces, they're my bling."
He also had gold teeth and many a gold ring 
A massive amount of gold to his chest did cling 
With every step he took did he sway and swing.

I asked him why he wore so much gold
I thought he stood out like someone very bold 
He said he didn't want to fit a particular mold 
He wanted his visage to be extolled

I wanted to know how much all his bling weighed
28 pounds of gold that could never possibly fade 
He said, "You'd never wear this because you'd be afraid.
It is way too much bling for you to have displayed."

My response, "You're mistaken, you see"
My bling more precious and yet so free
My bling changed my life from me to we
My baby's hug was the only bling for me

And so this man, with a somber eye did say 
"I just never thought of bling that way"
I wish I had my bling every single day
But at some point your children must go away. 


In 1982, I was in a car accident. While the accident wasn’t too bad, I went into anaphylactic shock after they gave me codeine. I was in ICU for 2 days, then was transferred to a regular hospital room for another 2 days. While moving from ICU to my regular room, I saw this man that I describe in the poem. I was still thinking how close to death I was and how much I was missing my 18-month-old daughter. I had ended the poem then with only a half stanza at the end. In 2014, I added the last 2 lines, lamenting the fact that our children must always go away.