I remember when a handful of candy was only one nickel. I would go down to the store on the corner, And smile at the old man behind the counter; His white hair, carefully combed to the side, gleamed. I would place the dull nickel against his palm; The wrinkles on his hand warming my fingertips. I would walk out of the store happy, tongue anxious; I could almost taste sweet nectar filling my mouth. I would see kids my age sitting on the sidewalk Who weren't fortunate to have a nickel like me, So i would give them each a small piece; Their grubby, dirty hands reached out, In their smiles a hint of greed, But in their eyes glimmered appreciation. It always made that last piece of candy I saved, As i walked that last block home, So much Sweeter. Today a small bag of candy costs a dollar, But when I go home I find those same small hands, Those same grubby, greedy hands extended to catch the candy. But that look of thanks has gone, disappeared, Like the broach my grandmother gave me the morning she died, Weeding the garden out back, giving one last sigh before She laid her head down to rest, Careful not to crush the young petunia she had just planted. But then, these grandchildren of mine have never had to Stoop down on the cracked, uneven sidewalk, And throw their pride and self-respect into the sun, And smile that false smile that would tear apart their mind, Face smeared with grime, clothes tattered and stiched, Hands working small rags furiously, fighting sorrow, And run after that nickel tossed in the wind, With the taste of nectar in their mouths, And thankful eyes filling their hearts.
Reason for writing:
Speculation..
Birth sign: Capricorn
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