The Broken Penny
I walked along the sidewalk, and out of the corner
Of my eye, I saw a penny on the ground.
I picked up the penny, so shiny and brown,
Yet now that I saw it, I could not help but frown.
This penny was broken, fractured in many ways.
There was no doubt about it; it had many hard days.
I worried the penny would break if I was too rough
With it. So I handled it very carefully.
A crack went straight through Abe Lincoln’s neck,
And his memorial was not a pretty site.
I cannot help but wonder, was this penny expected
To fracture? Was it expected to break?
Or was it just something that people made,
To be given away?
Was it merely meant to trade for something Desired, or was it meant for something more?
One thing I do know, it was once whole,
Not a single crack to show.
This was before it was given away,
To one, two, five hundred people.
I now know that it has been through such,
But it is still only a penny, and worth just as much.