I just released an epic, monstrous poo.
But still I have yet to flush the loo.

You see I’ve been wiping for quite some time.
There seems to be a never-ending supply of grime.

It’s as if somewhere up there is a hidden cave.
Somewhere that the supplies of poo are saved.

Maybe a little poo-gnome is there with a shovel.
There he stashes poo and lives in a hovel.

Or maybe like The Never-Ending Porridge Pot.
The famous fairy tale, only this is rectal snot.

And now I’ve nearly used the whole paper roll!
And there’s a tainted mountain of it in the bowl.

No way the toilet can flush this all away.
I think these used papers are here to stay.

A plumbers nightmare ready to block the pipes.
A sewerage setback, these offensive poo wipes.

Soggy and brown they stare up in defeat.
And woe is me, I just used the final sheet.