A TOILET'S LAMENT
-or-
ODE TO A COMMODE
I was in the library
Doing some prowling,
When deep in my belly
I heard a loud growling.
I knew at that instant
What must be the matter.
It wasn't my stomach...
It wasn't my bladder.
I knew that my colon
Was filled to the top.
I'd better act quickly-
It felt it might pop!
I searched for a restroom-
My feet, they did scurry!
The rumbling grew stronger,
I started to worry!
I finally found it,
And entered the stall.
What a shame - there was
No ventilation at all!
The instant my skin touched
That bitter-cold seat,
My bowels, in their fury,
Began to excrete!
It started out painful,
And slowly got better.
The first few were bone-dry
But then, they got wetter.
There were big ones, and small ones,
Some thick, and some lean ones.
Some short ones, some long ones,
Some brown, and some green ones.
The odors emitting
From that tiny stall
Had quite enough strength
To melt paint off the wall!
At last - it was over!
The rumbles were beaten!
I asked myself "What the hell
Could I have eaten?"
Cheap paper dispensers,
I feel, should be banned!
It's not a good feeling
When ****’s on your hand!
Impressed by the sculpture
I'd left in the toilet,
I hated to flush it-
I hated to spoil it!
But flush it I did,
And to my great surprise,
The damned thing plugged up,
And it started to rise!
The sewage was creeping
Up close to the rim.
This will not be pleasant.
The future looked dim!
The panic soon ended.
The flushing did stop.
But barely an eighth-
Of-an-inch from the top!
All I could do was to
Leave, and say "Screw it!"
And pity the poor soul
Who had to undo it!
I left that foul restroom,
I felt good again.
I tried not to laugh
As another walked in!
This is a true story
I'm telling, my friend.
The facts of the matter
Came out in the end!
-or-
ODE TO A COMMODE
I was in the library
Doing some prowling,
When deep in my belly
I heard a loud growling.
I knew at that instant
What must be the matter.
It wasn't my stomach...
It wasn't my bladder.
I knew that my colon
Was filled to the top.
I'd better act quickly-
It felt it might pop!
I searched for a restroom-
My feet, they did scurry!
The rumbling grew stronger,
I started to worry!
I finally found it,
And entered the stall.
What a shame - there was
No ventilation at all!
The instant my skin touched
That bitter-cold seat,
My bowels, in their fury,
Began to excrete!
It started out painful,
And slowly got better.
The first few were bone-dry
But then, they got wetter.
There were big ones, and small ones,
Some thick, and some lean ones.
Some short ones, some long ones,
Some brown, and some green ones.
The odors emitting
From that tiny stall
Had quite enough strength
To melt paint off the wall!
At last - it was over!
The rumbles were beaten!
I asked myself "What the hell
Could I have eaten?"
Cheap paper dispensers,
I feel, should be banned!
It's not a good feeling
When ****’s on your hand!
Impressed by the sculpture
I'd left in the toilet,
I hated to flush it-
I hated to spoil it!
But flush it I did,
And to my great surprise,
The damned thing plugged up,
And it started to rise!
The sewage was creeping
Up close to the rim.
This will not be pleasant.
The future looked dim!
The panic soon ended.
The flushing did stop.
But barely an eighth-
Of-an-inch from the top!
All I could do was to
Leave, and say "Screw it!"
And pity the poor soul
Who had to undo it!
I left that foul restroom,
I felt good again.
I tried not to laugh
As another walked in!
This is a true story
I'm telling, my friend.
The facts of the matter
Came out in the end!
