A smelly pile of filth in front of me
Waits to be picked up
And change into my food.
Yes, I do eat garbage.
Piles of newspaper and aluminum
Turn into my favorite food
After pulled out from other garbage
And seasoned with my sweats.
A smelly pile of filth that I pick up
Is the remain of desires we all make,
Is also a mirror of our hearts.
Yes, I do love this job.
Picking up garbage does not just
Clean the town
But also washes my heart with
Pleasant sweats that work can make
But I have long forgotten.
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