Packaging

I am
packaging.  I was
all the wrapping
my Inside needed,
and now that it’s gone,
I’m trash.  

If you pick me
up I’ll mutely honor you
for putting me in 
a proper receptacle — either
a recycling bin or
a garbage can.
Your decision
will be
the right one; no matter
which one you pick
I’ll lie inside it 
shiny and empty
until the time comes
for me to move on,
perhaps to recycling
and flame and reshaping,
perhaps to burial 
in dark, polluted earth.

Either way, you’ll have made
the right choice  —
for I was made 
only to contain
and not to have my own path.

I live, and have lived always
in the service
of another,
and see no reason
to stop now.