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Writer's pictureKyle Olson

My Ten Spoons

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“Now spend this money wisely.” I hear my mother say

As she hands me 60 dollars in preparation for the day

Where I leave her nest and venture to DC and then New York

With a group of my own classmates who to me were all jut dorks.


“Be careful now,” I think to myself, “I can’t be unwise or hasty.”

And so I swear on my own life to prove myself to be thrifty.

As I venture down Times Square, it is a time most opportune!

And so I make the prudent purchase of ten collectable spoons.


One is silver, the other gold, inscribed with lady liberty.

“Looky here!” I brag to my peers, boasting my newfound vanity,

And no amount of their ridicule can possibly change my mind.

For I have not a single regret for my substantial find.


My parents and I unfortunately do not see eye to eye.

“A waste of money!”, “Rip-off!” I hear them scream and cry.

They just don’t understand their worth, for the only memory that looms

Is of the time that I purchased ten collectable spoons.

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