Ironically amusing little existence of ours,
One of the most important and useful things here,
is a Dustbin.
Our planet would be an open dumpster without it.
It stores good and bad trash.
It can sustain ordinary paper and sticks.
The hard stuff is dealing with the darkness in humans.
The flesh and bones, the sweat and blood.
The materialism, the ego, the patriarchy,
the seasonal discrimination.
Some throw them in empathetically
Others do it with no regard to whatsoever and whomsoever
Endurement is the strength of a dustbin
It feeds the hungry insects, birds, and animals.
Jarring reality is that it feeds some humans too.
The dustbin tolerates it all.
The kicks, the dinner, the vomit
Complaining is the only thing it doesn’t do.
When patience reaches its peak,
It will smell and stink the whole place.
It is then that we realize we have been overburdening it
We then relieve her of her pain and unburden it
But Scars of the past do not glide by that easily, do they?
