GARBAGE CAN GROOVES

Man, these bins are singin' the blues today. Every time I walk by, it's a whole chorus of rusty metal. The wind whips around, makin' 'em clatter like a broken orchestra. Makes you wonder what stories they whisper - tales of dinners, maybe even some lies. Ain't that somethin', a symphony of junk? Maybe it's a lesson to sort out our lives - or maybe