Worthless

In times of diamonds and pearls
I found myself stuck in a little jewellery box.
Shattered to pieces, and once in that way divided,
there's nothing left to subtract.

Shiny dust sprinkled on the other fake jewels,
as they gossip and stare, pointing me
with their viperous tongues.

I used to shine so bright, like a star;
they were always jealous of me,
and now, I still shine, but into pieces.

So small are the pieces, so free is how I feel,
that being among and touching them
feels like I'm blessing them with a bit of shine.

All in all, all the jewels are worthless,
if they can't make you shine on your own.