Value

A dollar is a dollar despite its condition.

I have two paper dollars—
Just look right here and see;
And while they’re both a dollar
They appear quite differently.

For one is bright and crisp and new,
Not crinkled, creased, or worn;
Where the other bill is tattered
With an edge that’s partly torn.

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Crumpled Little Leaf

You are more special than you know. Photo by Daniel Frank.

Worthless, crumpled little leaf—
Cast off without a care;
Set upon the listless wind,
Carried here and there.
You’re not but nature’s clutter
To disgrace a pristine lawn;
The only want we give you
Is we want you good and gone!
And the Lord within the Manor
Sees you only as a chore;
He’ll have to rake and bag you
Which is irksome all the more.

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A Weed’s Worth

You are special as you.

I want to be a rose—all proper, trim, and neat;
Raised above the common, in her elevated seat.
She is the lover’s flower, evoking ooohs and aaahs,
The flower for which the world smiles in admirable applause.
And when she goes a walking, she spreads a fragrant scent,
That travelers pause in wonder to warmly compliment.

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