I walk past the poor every day The ones that ask me for money For the change That I hear jangling in my ears long after I walk away Money comes to me like a slip of paper A white page Stateing times and dates and hours spent In the pursuit of happiness Because that's how I feel when I get my wage Like the hours I spent didn’t just waste away. The jingle of my work, my age Is what I pour into that man’s cup It might be fifty cents But it’s really six minutes It might be six minutes But it’s part of what I earned with my time. Money is a sense of safety A paper cushion In my back pocket That protects me from them. A buffer of light green Silver, copper, gold That speaks of books And travel And new worlds So I pour my dreams into that man's cup. Maybe I can share my dream with him Maybe the money Will help him In a way that it helps me Maybe he will feel safer, warmer, happier With my hopes jangling in his pocket. It may be fifty cents. But it was still money My money That isn’t gaining me anything Except a lightness in my pocket And a quiet evaluation of where it can take me. Money controls me Just as much as I control it. As I tip the coins As they fall I can hear them They keep me going for another six minutes, then another six, then another. That fifty cents, Screams at me Power, effort, time. I want to think that money is good That the people who get it are But I see how I spend How he spends How she spends And I think that the dreams that money whispers are for adults And maybe I have to truly be an adult to know That it’s not what my money does to me, but what I do To those without. My coins get caressed in his hands ***** in a way That’s so different than mine God bless He whispers, and I think of the coins That have that Exact phrase stamped on them. Money should be used in Thomas Jefferson’s say: To promote happiness in a responsible way Because the tail of the devil must be dipped in the stuff The economics of everyday making decisions tough I can feel the relief it gives me to part with the money But I calculate the loss The casual toss Of the money, The money That represents so much Good And so much hope.