Taco Bell

I'm that taco juiced, ratty, plastic garbage bag you threw out the window, after a night of hearty partying.

I hit the ground running and tumble in the middle of the street.

Cars run me over, but the wind pities me and blows me to the curb. 

I'm a lone traveler, tumbling around town.

Some days it rains, and the water that gathers underneath, guides me toward the drain.

I'm to oblong and head strong to wash into the sewer.

I do my best to stay afloat, until the storm passes.

People pass by, unaware and unassuming.

I even see a business woman look right at me and shake her head in disgust.

The wind sends me on another adventure, but it is short lived.

The homeless have a tug of war with my handles, fighting to finish off any remains.

I'm that dirty plastic bag.

Created for good, used and discarded.