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Poetry: The garbage can

I walk with my mom,
hand in hand,
looking for a
garbage can.

I see every can
as if they were gold,
looking to see
what treasures they hold.

My mom tries to walk past
but I let out a shriek,
but mom I might miss him,
this could be his street!

My mom rolls her eyes
but still plays the game,
let's me believe
he's here all the same.

I look all around
for his shade of green,
but still it is yet;
yet to be seen.

He's got to be here
I'll find him one day.
I'll tell him my name,
we'll laugh and we'll play.

With every silver and green can
we stop and I crouch,
looking inside
for oscar the grouch!

Lifting the lid,
excitement about to burst,
peering inside,
but finding the worst.

He's not there either,
we'll try the next one,
with every can
it's more and more fun

Those big shiny cans,
what wonders they hold.
The imagination's a great thing
when you are four years old.

Learn more about this author, Jolene Belmain.
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Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:

Poetry: The garbage can

  • 1 of 10

    by Linda Ann Nickerson

    FRIDGE SPACE

    My fridge is full;
    There's no more space.
    The odor pull,
    A true disgrace.

    So grab a sack;
    Turn on the fan.
    And let's

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  • 2 of 10

    by Jolene Belmain

    I walk with my mom,
    hand in hand,
    looking for a
    garbage can.

    I see every can
    as if they were gold,
    looking to see
    what treasures

    read more

  • 3 of 10

    by Adam Smith

    The Garbage Can

    Where all of your ideas will come to rest

    Along with all the other Republican Fascist trash

    The people

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  • 4 of 10

    by Anne Knopf

    " GARBAGE"

    I took our rhw garbage today.

    I got rid of -

    All the waste
    All the junk
    All the crap...

    You came home and asked
    How was

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  • 5 of 10

    by Masimba Mukichi

    Fit for purpose,
    Useful,
    A necessity,
    Sums you,
    The garbage can,

    You are the mother,
    Of cleanliness,
    you are the mother,
    Of prevention,

    you

    read more

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Poetry: The garbage can

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