Tin can covered with dust, in a back corner has started to rust, it sits alone, neglected
Label\'s missing, what\'s inside unknown, around it cobwebs grown, past meals of it rejected
A few dents from past abuse, others were chosen first for use, the metal lost its shine
Past its pull date for sure, on its lid stamped numbers, now a blur, to open it, a choice all decline
Is it peas, corn or beans, by its shape not tuna or sardines, it\'s still a mystery
Easier to leave it for another day, pretend it has gone away, a ghost of history
Once a white elephant now a tin can, so the enigma began, it sits Pandora\'s box
Out of sight out of mind works for the blind, put it behind the rest of the stocks
From a tin diaper it has started to leak, a smell that has started to reek, is all that remains
Given to us by a guest, separated from all the rest, we find that it contains canned brains