‘He is just a piece of trash!’
I’ve heard you saying this lately.
‘She’s such a lying piece of trash.’
You’ve said it twice today.
Calling them trash.
Implying that they are garbage.
That they are somehow less than human.
Just a non-person.
Of no use to you.
Whose life has no real value.
In your privileged opinion.
Their life has the same value as yours.
Their life has the same potential as yours.
For growth and change.
The same potential to improve, repent.
The same potential to make mistakes.
To do good deeds.
To break the law.
To lie. To cheat.
To rationalize. To smooth things over.
To panic. To soothe.
To present things in a favorable light.
To twist reality. To suit their selves.
To believe in things so deeply that they can see no other way.
To love to hate to hunger to thirst to cry to care to cut themselves off,
to close their minds, to open their hearts,
to build up temples of ideology, to construct castles in the clouds,
to grasp at straws,
and to cling to objects.
To laugh and sing.
To run and jump.
To fall and shatter.
To battle bravely.
And to succumb.
To live for a short time on this earth.
And then to die.
To be buried underground.
Just like trash, in fact.
Just like you.
Listen to Oscar. He loves trash!
[…] of objection in so many little ways. Superficial judgment. Idle gossip. The catty chatter of girls. Trash talking. Locker room banter. Boys will be […]
[…] in so many little ways. Superficial judgment. Idle gossip. The catty chatter of girls. Trash talking. Locker room banter. Boys will be […]