I believe we are all connected
Like a string to a balloon, we follow helplessly with the other leading,
I am a barista
I take people's money and I give change,
You would not believe what crosses my mind at the oddest of times,
I can tell which dollars belong to whom, and who else gets that dollar bill,
The old crinkled one dollar bill came from a nice old man that never fails to visit me on Saturday mornings,
The crisp five dollar bill came from the gentleman with the shiny shoes,
The ten dollars bill was curved at the edges from being folded into a worn, brown leather wallet coming from a father of many,
The twenty with the rip in the side and the faded blue writing that scrawled out "love" on the edge came from a college student that paid homage to the town,
I see these people with their money,
They come and they go,
Others come and they go,
But I take the twenty from college boy and hand him the crinkled ones from the nice old man,
I take the ten from the father and hand him a five dollar bill that's seen the better side of life from shiny shoes,
We are all connected,
Whether it be by family, friends, or a dollar bill you get from a cashier at your local supermarket,
That dollar bill had travelled
And if you think about it,
You are travelling as well,
All it takes is a string,
To float.