Change

I found a dime in this school.
Bent by the hand of a tool,
handled with the care of a fool,
twisted and wrought,
from all it fought,
my heart it caught.
Not my typical dime,
different from many before.
Not many I could adore.
Other dimes were shiny and "perfect,"
but my dime's imperfections are perfect.

Its torch is brighter.
Its words are bolder.
Its date is young,
but it seems much older.
My care for this dime
spreads a wide range.
People see it as strange,
people see it as just change,
but I see it as our change.
Change for me and it.
Change to a heart from a pit.