An itch you need to scratch, on your body I’m a rash.
You throw me away, then you go pickin’ in the trash.
A man of faith, of pride, of honor, integrity and such,
The one who holds his family high, loves his wife so much.
Years ago you lied to me, and now you bother not,
I’m not worth a lie to you, a soul your heart forgot.
It’s almost like you hate me, I’m the blame for what you do,
You consume me, ruin me, discard me when you’re through.
You prey upon my love for you, feel nothing of my pain,
And all of this I show to you, every bit in vain.
You never once missed garbage day, tossed me in the pile,
Cleaning up your dirty deeds, disappearing for awhile.
Just last week you called again, you said you needed me,
Then when you did not show, there was no apology.
And the plastic bag that held my soul, it began to tear,
Forgotten hopes and broken dreams spilled out everywhere.
A moment now of clarity, of things I should have known,
And all at once I realized, I had trash of my own.
I have a pretty decent life, and to that you do disturb,
The stench of you is building up, so I’ll put you on the curb.
Crumbled happiness all around, one strike, it burns to ash,
Incinerated memories, not in my heart, but in my trash.
z
Honorable winner
Bronze trophy winner
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