Ode To The Bin That Betrayed Me

In moonlight's hush, beneath the elm, A masked marauder stalks his realm. With paws like whispers, eyes like coal, He seeks the prize that fills his soul. But lo! The bin—his ancient foe— Stands smug, unyielding, sealed in woe. Its lid, a tyrant, cold and tight, Dares mock his hunger in the night. "Have you forgotten?" he snarls with grace, "The feast we shared, the sacred place? You fed me once, you knew my name, Now plastic locks deny my claim." He leaps! He claws! A ballet grim, A pirouette on garbage rim. Banana peels and coffee grounds Rain down like war drums' hollow sounds. Neighbors wake to chaos born, A furry tempest, rage and scorn. Yet in his heart, a deeper ache— Not trash, but trust, was theirs to break. So if you see him, tail askew, A poet wrapped in dumpster dew, Know vengeance drives his nightly plan— The raccoon scorned by a trash can.