Grim reaper (death) and garbage

The grim reaper is just a garbage man Here to collect our paper wadded souls The last gift from man is a coffin Because, humorously, he recycles His badges are tombstone inscriptions His employee parties are funerals His poetry is eulogies of man His audience applaud with tears that roll Flowers are perfume masking the rotten He crosses some of them as he patrols Left for the respected but forgotten Flowery scented bags are just petals Never the less he is a garbage man Reciting poems whenever he can