Waiting to be Found

How many children are like spare change
Lost wherever guardians rested
Valued only when someone digs deep
Between the cushions of safety and horrors
Of cough drops, tissues, decaying food
Of violence and poverty and pain
To be found and pulled from oblivion
And with a bit of shine, to be a value
To be exchanged for sweetness 
Of ideas of survival, of nobleness 
Of humanity and inspiration 
For those of us who never 
Knew the pangs of being lost