I see a penny upon the ground,
It must have been lost,
And now it’s found.
I pass its way each day I walk,
I wonder what it would say,
If it could talk.
I do not bend to make it mine,
For to the sky,
It’s tail does shine.
It lies upon an imperfect place,
So it hides it’s expression,
From the human race.
Each day I look and hope to find,
It’s face turned up,
And I won’t be blind.
I’ll pick it up and set it free,
And perhaps it will bring,
Good luck to me.
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