Two Sides to Every Penny

They told us we would never make it this far but if they could see

how they look now. Like pinpricks of blood, dried and hardened,

that were long ago shed and long since forgotten.

And growing up we were always told,

“Use your head”; which didn’t make sense.

Because, why wouldn’t we follow our hearts,

Why not be what we wanted to instead of what

we were told to be? Some of us fell

to the army that brought dark thoughts and soldiers

more experienced than we. They are gray now, faded like the rest,

Broken and bent and cold, like twisted pieces of metal.

They had no one to lift them to broad and strong shoulders, no one

to lean on to seal the cracks, falling through to the depths

of those lost. We remember, but do not pity, for they crumbled under

the pressure of the world.

And those who were strong, untamed, and certain, were left like forgotten pennies,

alone, for a while, but the truth of our mettle shined through the abyss,

and copper became bronze, then silver, then gold as we fought

against the things we had been told. Until finally we were met,

by the legendary thing forbidden to us,

and as we greeted Success, I remembered how far we had come and what

we had done and that the blood and the tears and the salty sweat

were what made it possible to keep going.  


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