At The Wishing Well

I visited the wishing well
with pockets full of fare;
the day had come for dreams fulfilled
and time to pay my share.

Those wrong ways down a one-way street
demanded something new,
so changes were in order now
and I was overdue.

I cast a penny in the well
for everything I yearned;
I hoped, for every cent I tossed,
more common sense returned.

Then nickels flew at every wish
to heal my nagging pain
by severing the memories
that caused my heart to wane.

As wishes weighed more heavily,
I raised it to a dime.
The well soon caught my pocketfuls,
one longing at a time.

I may not be the richest man,
nor am I any wiser,
considering a money hole's
my personal advisor!