Garbage, we have to talk. It’s not you; it’s…them.
Them? The people who are incapable of carrying you home or for those few extra blocks to find a trash can. The people who carelessly release you into a world you don’t belong. The people who just open their car window and toss you into the ditch.
You? You’re not at fault. You were once important to someone. You held their drink. You kept the germs out of their lungs. You wiped the mustard from hungry lips. Then they callously let you go, and your identity changed.
You are now garbage, and I don’t say that in a malicious way because it wasn’t your choice.
I’m sorry that you have been abandoned on the ground. I’m glad you don’t know that you are missing the party going on in the can over there. Sometimes, I’ve picked you up, but I can’t do it all the time; there’s just too much. I’m sorry.
Maybe the hand that let you go needs a swift kick in the…well, the hand.
Leon Stevens is a blogger, composer, artist, and an author of three books (so far): Lines by Leon: Poems, Prose, and Pictures, Journeys: Eight Original Pieces for Classical Guitar and The Knot at the End of the Rope and Other Short Stories.
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