the garbage man comes
picking up yesterday’s memories
in plastic bags
and wooden boxes
leaving behind
empty tin pails
to be filled up again
with today’s remains
Busy shadows follow him on his route
Eyes collecting people dressed in a suite
Every sweat filled day he tells his story
His love’s labor for family glory
In his job syringe needles are not strange
Trash piles giving us a life in exchange
Pill boxes color putrid plastic bags,
torn and ejected body’s broken rags
We must remove what life has rejected
For families we mend lives affected
We endure when families are in need
Much more than just our families to feed
We deliver no matter the day’s length
Families depend on their father’s strength
Little Mary, who lives next door, and I think that we have the nicest garbage man...
And every week he comes and empties out our garbage can.
He's just as nice as he can be...
And often he stops and talks with little Mary and me.
Little Mary's mom doesn't like his smell...
But then again she doesn't know him well.
Our garbage man is so nice to little Mary and me...
He's kind and friendly like I want to be.
He comes each week and empties out our garbage can...
And he seems to be such a good and Godly man.
TK<