It’s way past bedtime and I can’t sleep.
Trouble in my bowels, a poo does creep.
It nags and taunts me like a spoilt brat.
It feels like a lump of soiled brown fat.
Quick as a flash I leap from bed.
It’s time to make this poo dead!
I shoot it from the three point line.
I didn’t bother taking my time.
I’m not even sitting on the throne.
It hits the mark, this game I own.
And with that swish the poo is long gone.
The game begins again at the crack of dawn.