The Pail

A tomb of opportunities spent --

Wretched anguish fills my soul

At the sight of that ominous,

Gaping hole. Inside, with eyes

Attuned to darkness I 

Behold plates, wasted; ketchup packets

Unopened; and the ripe odor of fruit. 

Spoons, cups, knives, forks, too much plastic;

Rolls, ketchup, syrup in the bowls at the top;

Dirty shoes, some unused; only clothing that is bare

Can find itself belonging here.

Bags, paper, ketchup, styrofoam 

Lastly, I want to mention that 

Most people probably don’t see the

Little piece of plastic wrap hanging off

To the side that makes it all worth it because

It hasn’t been touched by the 

Failures of the world.