The Real Lunatics

A poem that vehemently condemns littering the environment

The real lunatics aren't those poor souls that dance naked at the market square,
They aren't those grimaced faces that roam the streets barefooted
With unkempt hair and unwashed body, and a stench that slaps the nose -

The real lunatics aren't those unfortunate lots whose names are not found in the pride-books of kith and kin

The real lunatics aren't those unlucky ones nature seems to have been unkind to,
They aren't those who feed from waste bins,
Who suffer public scorn and are denied by friends and family...

The real mad ones are those whose refined appearance belies their crude insanity,
The real mad ones are those human beings who refuse to use the bins, and litter the streets

©Uche Ahunanya, 2019