Search
Pooetry

I’m Sorry

Sat down to shit like I usually do.
And out oozed a magnificent poo.

Then it hit me like a tonne of bricks.
The scent of this one was oh so thick.

You could cut the smell with a knife.
But why? The effect would end in strife.

Something I ate obviously didn’t agree.
An awful, nature defying, evil decree.

I could tell this was bad when in the next cubicle,
The occupant fled the scent of my fecal funeral.

“I’m sorry” I whispered, but it was too late.
Hence fourth I’ve lost my sense of taste.

And since then my eyes uncontrollably weep.
My nightmares are brown and without sleep.

Pure Pooetry

No comments

You can be the first one to leave a comment.
Search