A hundred hunger a hundred dollar
Crumbled into the palm of a hand in
pocket now dissappear cast off, into the
Dirt, floor, buried, lost, hidden found
Into someone's else's pocket starving
Or thriving pocket, helpless
A blessing to someone they thought to
self
A curse to lose it the elderly the woman
The man the lady thinks they all think,
Not only about the loss but the gain
Though it's gone into the wind with
October singing by it's side
I'll double time to two hundred, three
Or four or more or.. less down to a cent
A penny you'll find one day or never
Losses happens all the time things
people, fights, it's no different this is
Just another or maybe a bigger little
How much do we lose something big to
gain something else for exchange
whether
It's something or nothing in return.
-ashes poetry
