Poem

We go down the streets picking up trash. Looking at the community. I picture people going down the same sidewalk. People who live here. People who pick up trash too, who try to make a difference. Even the littlest difference can be seen. They help their community only to come back and see tomorrow that there is more trash. I know that even though we made a noticeable difference in the amount of trash, I know that won't last long. But we did good deed. And we know we could do more.