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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #1154883
Written in a fit of anger on the occasion of a Clogged Commode.
Oh toilet, how I loathe thee-
Thy porcelin walls are the dwelling place
of evil;
Thy pipes are the very veins of the devil.

It was not always thus;
Truly, to you I was kind,
But now you cease to function-
No longer will you dispose the products
Of my unintrusive behind.

Wherefore art thou broken?
Wherefore dost thou gurgle?
It's not as if I am asking you
To flush away a gerbil.

In ill-temperance I wait
Only left to pray
That your mocking gurgle
Will be gone in a day.

I unhappily await the horrors of my dreams;
A people-full toilet and a bathroom full of screams-
Toilet, torment me no more!
Let me bid farewell to the gore!
Anon, flush without pain
And await the day that me, thou canst torment-
Again.
© Copyright 2006 Asabelle Wildes (wobocop at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1154883-FLUSH-Oh-Toilet-How-I-Loathe-Thee