I am rubbish
That is no place
I am a used item
What the rich do not understand
I'm wasted from my origin
Accompanied by new friends
And a bunch of small insects
Who likes to perch on rotten goods
I am rubbish
On the outskirts of the offices of state officials
Maybe soon will be brought
To a comfortable stockpile
I am the dust
Which is often cleaned from expensive ties
They hate my existence
They know, garbage remains rubbish
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