Sleeping Pill

From the bottle to the floor:
Arcing end over end, and then
Forgotten in plain sight.

Restless white shape, a ghost
That drifts from place to place
With no purpose or reason
Other than some unfulfilled end.

Long forgotten, long ago.
Stepped over, stepped past, stepped on,
Rolled and wrapped in a cloak,
Dirt defined, wound in dust,
Kicked to a corner beneath us.

Let lie in the darkness for an eternity
To sleep until the day
Where bottles, crumbs, assorted trash
Are evicted from their homely home,
The only home they've ever known,
The home I call my home.