I am but a poor beggar,
desperate for the pennies of your attention.
When there is nothing left for me
Except memories and words,
Every little piece of you suddenly becomes
the most important thing in the world.

But now I cannot even have those,
For I know I must let you be
On your own, figuring out your own needs
Instead of worrying about mine.

Yet the heart feels what the mind knows not
And although I understand,
Still I hurt
And cannot bring myself to believe
that you are no longer mine,
though forever will I be yours.

So here must I wait,
Drowning in a most perfect agony.
And every glance you give me,
Scrap of attention you pay me,
And time you spend with me –
Will, for this beggar heart of mine,
Be like finding a penny made of gold.