Ten Cents
Ten cents is only that,
Hardly enough
To be worth picking up
It won’t buy milk,
It won’t buy bread,
Not even the paper
Made to be read.
It’s a shining small coin
Not worth very much
Smaller than an egg
Waiting to hatch.
It’s the sort of thing
One gives away
Without feeling loss
On many a day.
Imagine now,
That you be me
You have someone there
That you love and need
He is a man not there
With a mind of his own
And he leaves you ten cents
With a note that his going.
He tells you that ten cents
Is all you are worth
You sit down and cry out
And want to be heard
But there’s no-one here now
And you cry all alone.
There is no one that cares then
Nothing but pain
You want it so over,
This life that your in,
You look for some reason
That makes death a sin.
It would all be so easy
To just slip on by
Your only worth ten cents
And no one would cry.
Copyright © Robyn Blauw | Year Posted 2008
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