When as a youngster, about eight years old
“You must learn responsibility”, I was told
So there I was, ready for work
But no eight year old kid could work as a clerk
“Take out the garbage” was the job they gave me
Believe it or not, that job made me happy
I felt so important to be so allowed
I brought out the garbage and made my folks proud
As time went on and I grew into manhood
My love for all garbage was misunderstood
They couldn’t conceive of my scrap attitude
Didn’t know how I developed this scrap aptitude
The World War Two Air Corps found the right spot for me
I became the garbage handler when doing K.P.
We’d have never won that war if that garbage stayed in place
So I was properly medaled “The Air Corps Garbage Ace”
Later in life, somewhere down the pike
I married two women, completely un-alike
They had one commonality they thoroughly enjoyed
When it came to taking out garbage, I was never unemployed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nothings beats things you love to do... goooo! ! ! !