DISCARDED BIN
You missed me, chaps, again last week.
You emptied all the others
But me you missed.
I overflowed
I smelt
my lid, uneasy, sat
on vegetable parings, orange peel
and papers.
Admittedly our claim to elegance is nil
but what we hold
can serve a future generation
A boast not many, surely, can fulfil?
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