Plastic Bag
I am a plastic bag
And I hope I can be of use.
To be thrown away is such a drag,
Or tossed out to the street where there is no excuse,
Except that it isn’t my choice
If I’m passed along or horded.
You fill up my mouth, and I don’t have a choice
If recycled, reused, or exploded.
I’m glad to keep your things secure,
Protected from the rain,
And away from the eyes of hearts impure.
I just like to keep things contained,
That would otherwise fall all over the place,
Across your congested back seat.
My friendly red “Thank You” puts a smile on your face -
And you don’t want to lose your receipt!
My handles make me easy to tote,
And you can use me again and again,
Or tie me together for a belt or a rope;
I am a poor person’s friend.
Whatever I carry, I’m no complainer –
Though sometimes I’m poked full of holes
I’m a sturdy, flexible; light container,
Like the planet, or your personal goals!
