Ladies and gentlemen Do not, I repeat, do not
Flip the ribbed edge of the silver coin
Drop into the well, to be turned into a wish
Despite your good intentions it will only be a
chore that is like a door stopper, perfect fit into
The cradle of curved and bowed spine
Ladies and gentlemen, do not turn the coin into bait
For visitors with bleeding knees and palms from falling
From stooping to the stale waters to take them
Caution: A chink of metal can ever so gently touch
Tip, then topple dignity into the hands of hunger
Leave that coin in your hands for it will draw people who come
At night, like a moth to the light, like night animals who come
Hunting for the dollars they could make from dimes
You can’t see them because the well water washes everything away
Not everything perhaps, but you don’t care enough to see anything anyways
Ladies and gentlemen please don’t turn your coin into
Hopes, into chains that people grab at with the groping ugliness
Of despair
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