I set one piece on the sideboard
for the love that did not come;
i placed one piece in my left shoe
for the journey i’d begun;
i dropped one piece in the donor’s bowl
for the singer’s song was sung;
and now my pocket’s empty
and my pace no longer young.
Three coins that paid my present,
three coins that cost my past,
three coins that crossed my palm
would aid no future to be cast.
And in this time of stillness
when no stirring beat was found
i looked upon with new eyes
the brown leaves on the ground.
I took one piece to purchase
a gift for loyalty;
i placed two in my lover’s eyes 
and none were left for me.
I spent my life’s allowance
on a dream from which i woke
without another he or she
to be the balance in the yoke.
Three coins i would inherit,
three coins i’d later lose;
three coins could buy the universe,
but three i couldn’t use.
And in this time of sadness,
like the symptom of our age,
i’ve nothing more to offer
than the poem on this page.
 Reference to the coins placed in the eyes of the dead to pay Charon, the ferryman of the deceased.