LITTERBUG It starts with a drink cup. I pick it up But it does not stop there. Here is the leg of a chair, Somebody’s sock or shoe What do I do? Do I pick it up Or do I rely On some passerby, Some other guy Who is more civic minded Than I? Or do I try to pretend I didn’t see it even Then go off guiltily. Isn’t that silly? It’s not my responsibility To keep the streets spiffily Ready for the President To come by so, should I Set a perfect precedent By carrying this rubbish To the closest bin Then, walking on again, Then feel proud of me: The cleanest citizen locally Who says nothing vocally But becomes the silent entity That does a quiet civic duty To God and country And to my fellow man; A little bit ‘better than’ The normal woman or man Who seldom finds that they can Stop here beside this litter, Pick up and stash it But not feel bitter About the passing human garbage That threw this into the gutter, Some kind of utter bum, The kind that puts gum Under the tables and desks Of the world and risks nothing Because nobody knows It was them; unexposed They go on selfishly marring The place everyone sees and plays, Safe behind an everybody face, For all the world to see. But not me. Brent Kincaid 3/24/2014
Posted on: Mon, 24 Mar 2014 22:41:59 +0000
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