Mary Rowena


Old Money


By chance I am not seen
Not stared at in the street
Exhume a conscious clean
Make air all that I eat

Dimensions measure two
Reflections disagree
Perhaps there’ll be a clue
In fine tanned lines you see

Now I could spend all day
Faulting society
My mind is as it may
Won’t let a body be

I’ll hide behind a pole
And when I am not found
That’s when I've reached my goal
'Lost some change? Where’s that pound? '

Submitted: Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Edited: Sunday, April 27, 2014

Topic of this poem: pain


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