They are the only ones who know me. I am the only one who understands them. A million empty cans, robbed of their contents, and tossed away carelessly. A million that no longer serve a purpose, a million that no one will ever care about. It only mattered what was in them, like the wrapper on a candy bar.

Their role is vital. They transport and hold what no one else does. The get rolled and dropped, tossed away when they are no longer in use, their remains litter the ground leaving a footprint on the Earth. This is how they die.

Not a single one knowing what he died for, not one knowing what he leaves behind, slowly torturing the earth with ease. Recycle, recycle, recycle, I say when I see them. They don’t.

When the earth can take no more, and is in worse shape then ever, it is then when they recycle. There is no reason to keep them with you. Their job was very clear. A million empty cans who will never serve a better purpose. A million whose only goal is to serve and die for you.