Find A Penny...

There once was an old saying: find a penny, pick it up, and all day long you'll have good luck.

So then, when did I become so unlucky?

I've been on this grimy pavement for years now, left to rust and decay. Seasons change, people come and go, and I'm still here, waiting to be seen.

It's not right. I don't belong on the street. I belong in a warm pocket, a wallet, or a piggy bank. Heck, I'd even take under the couch cushion, so long as it gets me off the street. Anywhere but this damp place.

I know I've lost my shine, but that doesn't mean I've lost my worth. Yet people pass me by like I'm just a piece of trash and not currency. It's cruel. What happened to the world? When did I become considered litter?

At one point in time, I used to be treasured. Back in 1974, I'd help people get into movie theaters, won prizes at carnivals, and kept them fed. For half a century, I traveled all over the country, from New York to California, contributing to getting my person to their destination. The last trip I made was on a dingy subway before being abandoned to this fate.

Did I lose my value? Did I become unprofitable?

Even if I did, don't people remember that pennies are more than just a cent?

I'm not just a copper disk. I have more significance than that. Or have they forgotten that engraved in my frame are the words of our national motto? Forgotten that I carry the face of a legend on my surface? The face of a man who sacrificed his life to make a difference in the world. I'm a piece of history, not waste!

But if I were to be left somewhere cold and melancholy, why not on a headstone of a fallen soldier? I'd be honored to pass the message that their deaths weren't in vain, and they haven't been forgotten, unlike me. I'm deeply grieved that I can't even be that for someone. Maybe people outgrew the tradition of leaving coins for their deceased.

Yet what about other traditions?

There was a time when people used to throw pennies into fountains and such to make a wish in hopes they'd come true. I felt so important then, like I could make a difference in someone's future. People looked at me with optimism. But they don't do that anymore.

Was it because I failed them? Did none of their wishes come true? Was it my fault that they didn't get everything they desired? Or do people just not wish for things anymore?

I know I do.

If I could have one wish and it'd come true, I'd wish to have a purpose again, and a find a new meaning in this world. But I won't put my faith in that ever coming true.

So, here I lie, watching feet push past me.

I guess having no place is the curse of being an imperishable object once it loses its relevance.