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★★★★★ (6)
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1936656

Contest poem

A Coin About to be Tossed in a Wishing Well

You snatch me from your pocket
And feel my copper form
You turn me over in your hand
A pawn in your currency corps

I hear you whisper some hopeful phrase
to whom I cannot say
and look a moment to the sky
but no answer comes your way

You do not believe in luck or prayer
But today they must suffice
I’ll gladly drown for your last hope
a one-cent sacrifice

12 Lines
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