My Silver Dollar

I've met you when time was still fresh, new and a wonder of exploration. In that frame I pictured, sketched what I could remember of your face. How you looked familiar, yet glimpses could only register in the range of my memory. Time had been on my side for most of the time, until the betrayal of misfortune came along. Snatching what little I had to spend, tears streamed from the corner of each eye, revealing the shame trust had bestowed upon my heart. How could I be so naive? I was saying goodbye and see you later at the same time, holding out hope in my time of mourning what I felt would never reappear. I longed for the goodnight kisses to my temple when darkness came after day, when comfort in my comforter was to comfort me after I was tucked in comfortably. And yet, it never came. My heart bled at the gash left there to bare. It would be the only memory I could ever share. In repetition, my esteem was shattering, in turn I gained a reputation to keep, watchful I was of every being, their feet echoed as they approach, and did the same as they exited stage left. Isn't it funny? I never signed up for acting, I hate theaters cause all people do is play, put on a show as if I can't tell what lies behind the curtain. And now I'm certain there has to be a rainbow after the storm. There has to be a pot of gold after copper was all I was afforded. There has to be my silver dollar in there somewhere. Cause gold is beautiful, gold is a treasure, but it will never measure up to my silver dollar.

This poem is about: 
Me

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