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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required In the wood, two paths diverged, I could follow but one. It seemed absurd, to make a choice that many had made, to believe in one, and the other proclaim, that the one I follow leads to the light, because others believe it, it must be right, and there on the trail of the path I follow, a penny I found beneath the hollow, of an oak that has stood for thousands of years, and besides mine dropping … a million tears. It’s been there witness to this and more, to the greatest of love and the hatred of scorn, its seen man aplenty in grandeur and sorrow, and in every vein belief that we choose to follow, it cannot move … it only bears witness, to the hope we spill out, our blood of Sucre’s. Its seen people bleed for naught but the land, that its shadow has fallen upon, for this grand, scheme of things that we believe is tomorrow, but never our eyes will open to follow, that greatest of things … the lifting of sorrow. To put forth the light of a “Penny” that’s borrowed, from the one who created that thing he hallowed, beneath a tree where a penny was found, and a child picked up and thought … “He Crowned”, for once before … owned he nothing, and now afterward … owned he something, that was not his but something of store, of another’s hands … a pennies succor, and where this thing so small and slight, where it came from … who had the might, to change the fortunes of one so slight, to bring a child out of this thing called blight, just from the simple task of seeing, this thing beneath a tree was gleaming, of copper … not gold this thing he followed, and like his hopes before he had swallowed, and noticed it there beneath its glimmer, a grain of sand that brought its shimmer, to add to this, this Penny that shines. And shows of a time, when life went without rhyme. When nothing made sense … not even the penny, which small fingers picked up and thought it plenty, enough to give birth to wine and bread and the water that we all wish we had
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