“Why was I even created? I’ve been a nuisance from the beginning. How can something so abundant and well-intentioned, become one of life’s greatest hinderances?”
People lose me, abuse me, don’t use me, yet keep me around as their plaything. I had a practical purpose, but now I’m obsolete. I’m hated when I’m present, they look down their noses at me, as if I were unwanted baggage, the last deformed cookie in the tin that no one wants, but eats anyway. When I’m gone, no one notices, unless of course, I’m needed. Worst of all, I’m becoming a liability. The price to produce me is high, but the cost to own me is even higher.
Forever stuck in an abyss, devoid of sunlight, save for an occasional moment when I’m exchanged for a dollar. These fabric confines, I fall through the cracks. The piggy bank is my paradise of incarceration. When I’m dropped by my owners, the majority of the time I’m left there abandoned. The hot sun burns, but not as much as my metaphorical heart. My hardships are one I hope no one will ever experience. Wanted until something better comes along, exchanged for higher values. But you can’t put a price on feelings. If it were, I suppose mine would be worth more than the credit (card) I’m given.
I believe I was cursed from birth. My identity is always outshined by my silver and green brethren. Through all of it though, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything. Because I know I can change a person’s life. Important decisions are made through the flip of a coin, and sometimes I am that coin. I carry the wishes thrown mindlessly into fishponds, fountains, and wells. After all, I’m expendable. They can literally afford to lose me. But some can’t. Though many people take me for granted, I can still light up the worlds of those who cherish me.
Every time you save me, you earn me. I am the penny and though I may disappear from use one day, I have made my mark on the world.
