There was once upon a time,
Unexpectedly, a very small dime.
He did not do much of anything,
Apart from gazing.
He just stared longingly at the sky,
Counting the clouds that drifted by.
Dear old Dime, not very bright,
He did not shine, not a ray of light.
Dark and rusty,
Old and dirty.
Everyone did not care,
Though they could use him and buy a bear.
They did not want to touch,
This old thing of such.
They did not want to feel.
That sick disgusting bill.
He was old, rusty and dim,
But he hated the way man treated him.
© Joel Yeap