Fine China

​It cheapens me.
Closing off to others hidden behind the velvet rope.
Do I look expensive? ‘Cause I feel devalued.
The lack of it depletes me.
I am the fine china behind glass doors.
Fragile and put away for elegant times that never occur.
Vintage or antiquated, left in the past but oh so pretty right?
Merely forgotten behind.
The shiniest penny no one ever wants but sometimes need in those rare times.
So lovely and useless it’s pathetic.
No one cares for it because it has no purpose.
A burden to carry that jingle of pennies.
The journey is silly.