Three Little Pennies

Dear Sir. You lost your little bright dreams, emotionless faces marching down the cement gutter wall. Gleaming and glimmering, left for me to scoop. I appreciate the attempt, sir, but I’d rather others. Ones pressed in my palm, asking for change, a chance, for luck. Hoping I might take them while still warm and relevant. Your dreams are shiny and fresh, washed over too many times and no longer with a heartbeat all their own. I don’t have the time for your dreams, sir. I prefer mine, tarnished and warm in my hot little hand. Think I’ll leave yours in the gutter, sir, for someone else to find.

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Published in: on April 5, 2008 at 9:14 am  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. I don’t know what it is about this entry… but it’s beautiful. 🙂


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