Penny by: Willie P.
Was it because of his rough texture are maybe his brown skin No one seems to notice him
I guess He never seems to make a difference unless your short a cent
Eighty nine of his friends a day could help a kid in an orphanage
Bodiless he only shows his head
People prefer paper instead from the comfort of his lint filled denim home from washer to dryer
Dryer to washer he practically did laundry on his on
Been around for so long he could have been a great grandfather
You see he was similar to the slaves passed from owner to owner, loaner to downer,
Woman to man, hand to hand, and he was known for his great transaction skills
Even though his freedom lied in the loss of others, the cost of others, he often suffer
Until one day he found his significant other
See she was a dime and they made a vowel to each other
If they were to ever die then they would meet up again in ocean’s eleven
Cash register heaven and wait to be selected by some random consumer
See I would have still been in heaven if it wasn’t for the taxes on the tuna that she purchased
I blame Uncle Sam for my departure even though her taking me wasn’t worth it
You see we lined of in sections of fifty until the store owner lift me
Leaving forty nine of my kind behind to miss me
But I had family in all the cities and being raised in poverty
I learn to appreciate the little things if any
And to never under estimate the power of a penny
that grows to be a nickel, that grows to be a quarter that grows to be millions of dollars spent on a war worth not even fighting for but, yet we can’t find a cure and my only fear is that we settle for less and think that we have plenty and under estimate the power of a
Penny
