Pennies Going Gone

Gabe Gass '28

A couple pennies discarded out 

of a man’s back pocket, onto the grieving 

concrete floor, some just recently 

manufactured and thrown out,

while others go down molded and old. 

Some lives thrown away, away for good.

Gone, looking away for a second,

just to turn back and see none at all.

Now in my very own hands, sits this worthless

piece of currency, one which feels so heavy.

Heavy as the countless wasted opportunities

thrown out the door when no one cared 

to pick up the penny and save a life.

My fingers slip and my arms collapse.

The coin running away, down the road,

as if it had a mind of its own. There I

go, chasing after this worthless piece 

of junk that others would just walk 

right past, some piece of junk

that would never be made 

again.