her cross

Sparkly cross of powdered blue,
Strung to her neck to match her shoes.
Strategically placed, low on her breast,
The cross it dangles, close to her chest.
Upside-down a cross she made,
A statement, of opposition, perhaps afraid.
A chain of beads in her hand it stays,
As she kneels down and prays.
Wears a cross to make her brave,
Wears a cross for promises made.
On a church altar a toddler sees
A weapon of death and pain for thieves
Symbol of triumph though it be,
Can I wear it round my neck that cross that made me free?
And if I did what would it mean,
A reminder of things believed, unseen,
Or a pretence of something it used to mean?