The Crystal Pram

A crystal of pure diamond in the shape of a pram,
Given when I was born, kept safe in a place called home,
So precious yet so small, it only weighs half a gram,
It was so pretty, and meant so much, it was better than Google Chrome.

I didn’t know what it was, for I couldn’t even see,
Was it a toy? Something to play with?
Then I realised, it was a gift, a gift for me,
Later on, I knew that I had received it from my Uncle Smith.

I have to keep my gift away from the small ones,
So that it wouldn’t be smashed and broken,
I would say, “Go off and play and play, little ones,”
You wouldn’t call it a crystal, it is more of a birth token.

My sister was in envy, she thought it was quite unfair,
In the end I chose to share, I was quietly crying in despair.