Rubies

I'm not rich

Not in diamonds, gold, or emeralds

Not in art, or book, or wine

I'm rich in rubies

Gallons of the small gems

The sharp cut facets

Tinkling against my skin

I'm rich in rubies

The weight of them

Crushing me as the spill on the floor

Dripping down in droplets,

Puddles

I'm not rich in a real sense,

In a right sense,

I'm rich in bloodred rubies