Lose Change
A Cellar Phone in the hand of a man with hollow bones
Rays penetrating his halo’s hole while the screen goes to “roam”
Not quite his wish, its just his ignoring of the warning
His ego remains floored while signals to his head are soaring
The bag boy asks “Paper or plastic for your two cans sir?”
Returning a smile and giving a “Its ok” wave for his answer
Outside the store sat a man, holding a ragged hat in his hands
His face held dirt for days, sand stuck into every gland
He dug into his pocket grabbing a couple dollars, about four
After hearing “Thank you!” he turned around and gave two more
Her life contained inside some leather sown neatly together
Her tools to make it look like she’s not under the weather
The address book full of people she’ll probably never call
A can of pepper spray if her back’s ever against the wall
The phone she bought to be used “only for emergencies”
But clocks two hundred hours monthly on her gossip certainty
Her wallet, holding the pictures of loved ones and some I.D.
Sixty dollars in twenties, close to ten in coins, and plastic money
And when she got bumped and the contents of her life went flying
It's no surprise why she started crying and felt like dying
But in the end it was a good deed that went unnoticed
Cause later that day a starving child found 5 bucks and wrote this;
“It's nice to find lost loose change”
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