Roadside Dustbin Poem by Md. Ziaul Haque

Time goes on and on,
But the roadside dustbin stands like a fool alone,
It has to keep in its heart,
The waste of every sort.

Some throw in it,
After each night,
The useless and fat rubbers,
For the broken things the same bin is a safe place.

Both the rotten and stale foods,
Lie in it with all the useless goods,
The chicken bones, torn diapers,
Animal intestines, wet and bloody papers.

The poisonous syringes of the addicted,
The dirt, illegal child in polythene wrapped,
Stinking water, the rheum and saliva of the diseased,
The evidence of the person who has just been killed.

However, the dustbin is never tired,
Of holding all the wasted,
Things on a daily basis,
Which the dogs and insects try not to miss.