#inthebin

In a da bin
Is where he is.
No, not where he belong
But because she thrown him
In a da bin.

In a da bin
Coz he did sumtin stupid
Sumtin she dinna like
And so she said he
Deserve to be
In a da bin.

In a da bin for
Three months and four days
He been counting since
She stopped talking to him
And tossed him there
In the quiet place called
In a da bin

One Saturday night he said,
Dahling, I going out with a da boys
Watch a bit of ball and all.
And he da com back
Two in a da morning
And she scream and yell
And cuss him out.
And then
Throwed him
In a da bin.

From a da bin,
Sometime he open, and
Peep outta da bin.
He see her face,
Her mouth set, a tight line,
And he close the lid
And slink back
Into da bin.

He wannad to say,
Dahling, we can talk
If I did anytin’ wrong
when I was with the boys
That Saturday night,
Ya tell me because
We cannat be livin’
Like this.
You outta da bin,
And me in a da bin.

Now he say to himself
I can’t stand
Bein’ in a da bin
For no more.
I’m tired of her treating
Me like I am a rubbish
A bad cabbage, rotten tomato
Them are what, not me,
who belong
In a da bin.

 ©LindaKibombo