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Under the Pile of Trash I am an ugly, smelly garbage can No one notices me sitting on the cold ground. People dread walking by me, The only things next to me are bugs. Night and day i sit here with trash rotting, The air around me gets smellier and smellier. But no one realizes how useful i am, I keep the area clean and beautiful, I hold peoples trash for them, Just until the garbage man comes and cleans me out. You wouldn't believe all the different things he finds in me, There are smoothies and ice cream, Half eaten hamburgers and sandwiches. With ketchup and mustard, leaving ugly marks on my shiny interior. Holding the pile of trash i sit here Just a smelly, old garbage can.
Copyright Monique Hurdle February, 2009
