"Trash"

It saddens me as I see
trash on the ground.
As I look I see more and more
trash all around.

A cup and a bag and a
wrapper from gum,
It would take near a year to pick
up one by one.

I wonder just how littering
people were raised,
Or if it's some sad, sick, and
gross new world craze.

The cigarette butts are my
least favorite, still--
They cover the ground like ants
on a sand hill.

Recycling sounds like a
thing of the past--
That's way too much work and the
ground is so fast.

The trash leaves our hand without
thinking at all--
I'm sure it will be on the
ground till next fall.

I pick trash up daily as
part of my job.
Could that guest truly be that
big of a slob?

What good can I do in this
world going wrong?
I guess pick up piece by piece
till all is gone!

written by Dan
2/3/06
I was reminded today of this poem as there was lots of trash on the ground at work. :(