They say money doesn't grow on trees,
And I never argued
For I have never seen Benjamin,
Sway, fleetly, from branch to ground.
I seem to only meet these fine fellows
Hiding behind closed paper messages,
Unmindfully tripping me on a battered street,
Jumping out of a forgotten pocket,
Snugged in the hold of my granparents palm.
Only places I would never ever quite expect.
So I now ask those who believe
Money doesn't grow on trees
To only look
For it is never ever quite expected to be there.