Asia Deshay

It was 1787 when you became a new creation.
Meant to give us a way for health, safety, and security.
Flat and round shiny brown.
Tiny and worn to black.
Marked with symbols and figures of liberty and equality.
Only worth so little and comes in armies piled into vases.
Only used for emergencies.
Dropped into machines for something greater than you that is only in one single form.
Flipped for final choices.
Spun for our amusement, and turned into artificial gold.
Tossed into fountains for childish games and dreams.
Dropped in buckets for care and pity.
And left on streets and roads with false hopes of being saved from the cruelties of humanity.

Don’t you remember those times,
When they truly loved you?
When they really needed you to survive and thrive.
Dropped into cash registers for milk and bread.
Stashed into pockets for love and joy.
Seen as something instead of nothing and treated with more care and worth.
Now they want you to die.
Just like others like you.

Because you fill up their homes and make them want to cry.
But there are others that want to save you from death.
They love where you’ve been and where you began.
They love your markings and color
And love to see you every day.
As our own world grows, you have always stayed the same.
Soon your time will come to an end, but you will stay in our memories.
But in the end, it won’t matter, you won’t matter.
Because you are not meant to fly in the air to show everyone who we are.
You are not meant to be worn on our backs for protection and to revive our identities.
You are only meant to spend.
You were only meant to spent.
Now you are meant for decoration.
Because you are a penny.