The Sandwich Under My Bed

I once went to someone's house and found a plate with a half-eaten sandwich under their bed. Were they too lazy to throw it out for some reason? Wouldn't it stink up the place eventually? Whatever...here's a poem about it.

The Sandwich Under My Bed

There's a sandwich under my bed--
it's been there for a week.
The bread is turning green,
and it's starting to reek.

I had taken just one bite,
and decided it was enough...
so I slid it under my bed
with all my other stuff.

The smell intensifies
with each passing day,
but somehow I keep forgetting
to throw that sandwich away.