The Throw Aways.

I am last nights dinner.
I am the leftovers in the fridge.
No one wants to gorge on me.
I rot slowly, start to waste away.
And no one throws me out just yet.
They put up with my stench till its too much.
Then I met the trash bags everyone threw their remains in.
I met the dumpster, and wonder what rat may dare want me this time.