One Man’s Trash

The origin of junk food
Lives on through God’s garbage
And disposable flowers
Gasping for sunlight,
Through shards of glass and
Chip shop packets
Now you, you’re a flower
Disposed of, and trampled underfoot

By a boy
Given golden sweets and
Throws the wrappers on the floor
His expectations of sex hand-picked
From pornography
You’ll find his empathy in the gutter
Alongside newspapers, cigarette butts
And chewing gum
When he’s whispering
In your ear:

You are beautiful
You are garbage You are garbage
You are God You are God You are God.

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