There is always something to have come.
Before.
Some rule.
Unspoken knowledge.
Common supposedly.
Is there a way to hear the whispers.
When your the one screaming.
But this facade can only contain desables.
Unattainable.
So many believe.
The vast majority relinquish it.
Like a ***** penny.
Too overused to even see the year.
And forgotten.
Just another piece to be tossed.
But should it find its way into the pool of eternity.
Would it be too greedy.
To shine once more.
Be reminted.
Reclaimed.
But like so many.
Do they find themselves.
Spent.
Wasted on a wish.