The Lottery

Written by Trina Mioner

GRACIOUS was her name,

she stood tall

like the statue of liberty.

With her hand out, bidding

bring me your broken

and downtrodden.

They never had much,

But with each other

They had plenty.

Kids we hit the lottery,

she announced.

We’ll give some,

and keep some for us.

Generosity is a must.

SELFISH was his name,

Hunched,

Shrinking,

Shriveled up,

Self-made man. 

No shame was his game.

With his back to his brood,

he mumbled,

I hit the lottery for me.

I’ll keep for myself

With my fists balled up tight

For me only,

will I fight.

To them he said,

you will land on your feet,

your debts are for you to meet.

WISDOM was his name

thinking first,

was how he came.

Beard peppered with gray,

Cane in his hand,

kept the children at bay.

Seeing this as an opportunity to teach.

He said, gather round,

come close,

within reach.

Kids he said, “I hit the lottery.

With a little,

we will splurge.

Set some aside for a rainy day.

Invest a portion

and let it grow,

For tomorrow is a day

that we don’t know.

A year later the cameras were gone

GRACIOUS had many friends,

And not a penny to lend.

SELFISH had money in the bank,

But was lonely,

Only him to thank.

WISDOM met tomorrow with a smile

On his face.

Prepared to meet the challenge.

For he had won with grace.