The Garbage Can
At the corner. Far off from the main stream; far from the flow. At the edge. In the midst of cleanness, the the only thing dirty. In the immaculate, the only thing filthy. Despised, hated for it be putrid; but thats a price its willing to pay. For the neatness, for the purity, for the smart grooming of the flow. No one notices that the dirtiest thing possible, is the very essence of the spotlessness that is deemed impossible. Not one. Dirt does not go away, it is simply transferred; it is simply a passenger on transit to find a train meek enough to stomach it. For the sake of cleanliness, something has to be dirty; for the sake of happiness something has to be hated. And for a litter free life, one must use the garbage can..