The Broken Coin

I told old man saint to leave her,

she was no good for him.

I told young boy brat to go back to her,

she was the one who taught him to love.

Before old man saint could leave her, she left him,

she didn't think she was any good for him.

Young boy brat didn't go back,

He said she taught him to hate.

Old man saint sunk deeper into sadness,

once more he had to search again.

Young boy brat shunned the sadness,

and looked to the future with bright eyes.

Old man saint wants to be happy and sad,

but he always wants others to be more happy.

Young boy brat wants to be happy,

and he will leave those like dirt that make him sad.

I love old man saint for what he is, but I wish

that he loved himself first.

I have loved young boy brat, hard wind in the pines,

but he only knew how to love himself.

What will become of the two?

Old man saint will continue loving others,

Young boy brat will always love himself first.

Unless situations change,

and like broken sides of the same coin,

the two come face to face with the worst
that their alter egos can bring.

Maybe then the coin will melt,

and form a better wholesome man

who knows that to love is to respect

and to respect is to love,

for the coin's essence

and the owner of its kindness

in possessing it,

and lovingly passing it on.