Moving Rolling Thunder Calling Poem by David Thomas

i feel like a quarter
passed from hand to hand,
from register to register and over
again and again,
when will things change,
when will i be free?

free to roll as i please
free to meander and gallivant about
free to carry more value to anyone
besides a mere twenty-five cents more...

like a lone asssassin i am one of a kind
yet there are many of my kind
even some who look just like I,
yet none of us are just the same
one day i'll be worth more than just a quarter...

maybe by some odd chance i'll be mended into the armor
on one of of the newest tanks
and this measly quarter
will be the different between life and death
for another four men simply because i was there
wouldn't that be nice?
knowing i make a difference...

i hate sitting here
on this cold wooden table
dreaming of all that i could be doing
and knowing i still have limits
and wishing i could break them all
someone still needs to teach me just quite how
how to break my limit holder
ecspecially now that i realize
that my limit holder,
is me.