The Garbage Truck
Symbolic poem
Thursdays begin with a noisy thud,
for the garbage truck comes around.
Robust men and rumbling machines
work in unison to get the job done.
One by one the bins are emptied.
Bags of trash are fed to the truck,
swiftly chewed and swallowed in.
The belly once full, the monster moves on.
An unpleasant odor lurks in the air.
Traces of trash here and there.
There are human garbage trucks
in each and every lane of life.
How elegant and great they look!
But filled with garbage to the brim.
Tons of trashes, new and old,
crammed in their sickly hearts,
which squeeze their way through the mouths
-the little windows to the souls.
Smelly skeletons of the past…
Toxic tales of envy and hate…
Rotten phrases and dirty jokes…
And amidst the heap of crushed dreams,
dripping with guilt, pain and shame —
sharp pieces of broken hearts.
How they sicken everyone around! 😒
The garbage truck goes up and down…
An unpleasant odor lurks in the air….
Traces of trashes here and there….
