Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 25
a penny on the street, 699 in my pocket.
just one penny short
it's strange that, while i hold so many in my palm,
all identical, bar some slight green tinge that coats a corner or two,
only faintly disfigured,
the one i don't have appears to be worth exceptionally more.
aren't all my pennies worth to me just as much?
i feel its absence more than their presence.
maybe someday somebody will pick up my penny, maybe it rains, maybe it shines,
and never again shall i hold it safe in my pocket.
while i may find another bouquet, i will always remain one short,
two short,
three short.
always short after loss.
Written by
alice
29
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems