a wrinkled hand uncovers a coin so old
a day at the fair a story to be told
a man picks up that coin with a smile of glee
A bridge to the past, where time is free.
a coin in hand, a ticket to the past
Memory's of joy forever pass
Back in 1963
Young Jimmy had to pee
Stood by that tree while he pulled a coin
Biting it with mischief, a youthful decree.
Bent to the side, left a lasting mark,
Little did he know, it would embark
On a journey, against a tree it did embark,
Bouncing off, landing where the beach meets the dark
Now in the hands of an older sage,
That coin carries tales of a bygone age.
A memory's echo, an enduring spark,
In the sands of time, leaving its mark.
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