Most people love and adore me
I am a tubular metallic cylinder
With an orange and turquoise label
Compressed, rolled out from metal sheets
Dull or shiny, fashioned to contain
Stored in a warehouse, carried in boxes
Stacked on a supermarket shelf
Bought and emptied onto a plate
But when they have had their fill
I’m crushed and battered and tossed away
Like a dirty old, hole-ridden dishcloth
Unloved, unwanted piece of trash
But hey, some kind person rescues me
Cleans me up and gives me a purpose
I could be used as a plant pot
Upcycled into a pencil holder
Even a water carrier, oh
To be treasured and loved again
Your trusty baked bean tin

Sheila Masterman