People traveling over the main road
Not realizing their load
Cars and trucks travelling over me
While I’m the penny patiently waiting to see
Someone has to pick me up
This I just hate, the waiting I cannot tolerate!
Suddenly someone passes by
Thinking it’s their lucky day
Collects me and puts me in their pocket
And, that is where I stay
Until, they need to use me....
Once more, out I come again
Hands exchanged; I am rearranged
Nothing in life remains the same.
©Holly P. Moore