I wrote this after watching a program called "Blood, Sweat and Luxuries" - the way the children worked on the dump really made me sad, so I wrote this to appease that feeling. It's my first try at some poetry, I hope you like it, there are a lot of deep messages inside.
The Dump Rat
Morning, and the Dump rat wakes,
Small eyes blink, in hot, white,
Sun; the only power he touches.
He leaves, to climb his daily mountain,
Each burning step a struggle.
His face is yellow, like those of his
Friends, they know no future.
Small, swift fingers sifting large, metal mass,
searching for that blessed line, purified in fire,
It brings him life in sweet, toxic smoke.
Midday, and his lungs are blaze
smokes deadly kiss,
it holds him fast, as he hides,
in an old vehicles shell.
Sky above him, glistens,
Waiting; he longs to reach out,
but his arms are numb.
Evening, and the Dump rat sells his shining
Gold, it holds no value.
Pittance earned spent for bread, leaves not a
The day his only waste.
SINCE THE DAWN OF HUMANITY, MAN ALWAYS LOOKED AT BIRDS FLYING AND THOUGHT "DAMN, IT WOULD BE SO AWESOME IF THOSE BASTARDS WERE ON FIRE"