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Pride, is all I feel when

I throw my trash

On the ground



Fields of stumps

Leaves of plastic

A piece of such art you built

A plastic bottle next to your cancer sticks

Dumb shit, filthy slob, littering leech, obsolete born piece of plague

Take this artistic spirit upon your mother’s grave and

Don’t forget to throw your cigarette butt there

Just take a dump on it and call it a grotesque art form

Just think about what you do

You deserve it all the worse

In careless hands our beauty fades

Each piece of thrash, a choice that weighs

Maybe we all have different senses of taste

But harming life should be far gone from our heads