In my hand I hold coined phrases,
some exclamations others just praises,
Atta boy, way to go, you got it now,
I toss these into the fountain flowing,
to gather on the bottom pile that’s growing.

They drift slow down in a surreal slow motion,
simple words used to show some emotion,
That’s right, keep on going, you know how,
But on gathering with other coins they blend
Unremembered till someone tosses more in.