You’re Treating Me Like Trash

A poem written about the litter on Victoria Street, Glassboro, New Jersey.

McDonald’s.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your big Mac.

Do you know how I feel?

You’re treating me like trash.

McDonald’s.

Wawa.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your hoagie.

Do you know how I feel?

You’re treating me like trash.

Wawa.

Redbull.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your energy.

Do you know how I feel?

You’re treating me like trash.

Redbull.

Airheads.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your sugar.

Do you know how I feel?

You’re treating me like trash.

Airheads.

Monster.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your liquid.

Do you know how I feel?

You’re treating me like trash.

Monster.

Marlboro.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your smoke.

Do you know how I feel?

You’re treating me like trash.

Marlboro.

Dunkin.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your coffee.

Do you know how I feel?

You’re treating me like trash.

Dunkin.

People.

Do you even care about me?

I don’t want your garbage.

Do you know how I feel?

I’m supposed to be your home.

People.

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