O, Garbage Beg, you thing of beauty!
Black, shimmering, shining!
Yellow pull tabs, white ties
All trimmings to come with your grace!
You hold our garbage, our trash, our waste!
(But not the bodily kind. We hope.)
You keep the garbage pails, built just for you, clean,
Or at least, cleaner than they'd be with trash thrown directly into them.
You keep us from littering the ground, and make the garbage man's life
Under appreciated, overpriced, unloved
Unfortunately, all words to describe you.
You cannot talk, but I'm sure you could tell great tales of all you and
your kind have seen,
All that you have held..
Food; paper; glass; ruined toys; old CDs, DVDs, and computer parts;
Broken pencils; leaky pens with ink pouring out, manmade blood,
Old clothes; ripped shirts, a memory of a bygone era, reminding the wearer
of their younger days, and the adventures they shared together;
Cat litter and all other manner of disgusting objects.
But you are silent.
Or is it just as well, for perhaps humanity is not ready to hear
The tales of a garbage bag.