One fateful, frightful gloomy night,
I took a shit that became my blight.
I heaved and squeezed and dropped my load,
Such pain it caused, much grief and woe.
The sound it made when it left my bowels,
Reminded me of a bestial howl.
Then the end came, the deed was done,
The last chunk of brown left my bum…
As usual I stood to look back with pride,
To marvel at what had left my hide.
But lo and behold, the bowl was empty!
Just clean water, no recycled spaghetti!
I expected a hideous mutant poo,
But nothing, no mushy brown stew.
I heard a creak and what I hoped was wind,
Then I felt it, to the ground my feet were pinned.
An eerie breeze wafted past my nose,
“My god, I’m going to need a hose!”
Finally I was able to move, and I did,
I spun on my heels and left a brown skid.
But still nothing I spied, no visual trace,
“Screw this!” I said, and to my bed I raced.
Under the covers I shook with brown fear,
Drifting to sleep, I hoped I was in the clear.
Hours later I was stirred awake,
Something in my bowels made a quake.
That same evil scent entered my nostril,
It was ancient and pungent, like a fossil.
From nowhere I heard spooky organ music play,
Hoping to counter it I reached for the spray.
But I was too late, I felt my cheeks wriggle,
Between them, out came a little brown squiggle.
It flew out and hovered above the bed,
It was a turd ghost, oh my fears and dread!
It wrung itself out and dripped on the sheet,
This was far from a delicious treat.
It then started to shake violently,
Much like I when I birthed it silently.
Frozen in fear I let out a little shart,
The ghostly turd shot at me like a dart!
I leapt to action, blocked it with my pillow,
The stain it left weighed a kilo.
I formed a plan, I knew what to do,
Running, I left a brown trail to the loo.
Hardened with adrenaline I took a stand,
This was one turd that must be canned.
I taunted the pootergeist by flashing my starfish,
Did I have the balls, not just a death-wish?
It sped toward me with incredible force,
It was time to react, to show no remorse.
Grabbing some paper, I caught it in a sling,
My plan had worked, I am the shit king!
Popping the toilet seat open, it’s end was near,
Then it slid free, leaving a gross smear!
I was desperate and hasty, but I took no chance,
Grabbing with bare hands, I ended this ghost dance.
It struggled for freedom, shit spat everywhere,
I shouted “This is the last person you’ll scare!”
I slammed it into the bowl and closed the lid,
“Begone shit spawn! Return here I forbid!”
I flushed and went back to bed,
Finally some rest, nothing more to dread.
Comfort at last, warm in my sheets,
Oh no, I forgot, they stink of rotten meats.