You the shilling

 Look at yourself the roundness
the lines etched aroung the circumference
we echange ourselves too often 
its dizzying

And into the slot you fall and the lights come on
Face is royal you echo the sovereign
tears wouldn't rust it
left somewhere under the playground swing

from the distracted falling
hitting the soft bark flicking a piece up
just to conceal it enough
until the hunger of one finds a glint

sunlit day optimistic pauper
greasy hands permanent grin
not broken or even shaken
picking you up thumb and forefinger

to spend you on candy
to keep those hands greasy
and the energetic body that must nose
curiosity such a power

and sticky you fall again
into the cash register
to be collected with the rest of the change
clanging loudly as you silently endure the journey