A poem

I recently had to write a poem for a course I was on. I’m no poet, but one should always try one’s hardest, shouldn’t one?

Apologies in advance.

I’ve a lump in my throat, as I sit here and write

Sharing these memories, well it seems so contrite

But share them I must, and you must understand

If this hurts you at all, my dear it’s not planned

I’ve relied on your strength, since I was only a child

You’ve always been there for me, your touch soft and mild

You’re there when I’m crying, at my lowest ebb

You’re the one I first reach for, with a nose full of greb

My heart gently breaking, my eyes full of tears

You’re the first there to wipe them, to tend to my fears

You’ve caught more than tears of that I am certain

You’ve spared hundreds of socks, and many a curtain

Do you remember the time, in my memory it lingers

I was juggling with scissors and cut one of my fingers

You were first there as always, to tend to my wound

“It’s nothing” you said “you’ve not been harpooned”

“Here let me see, I’ll make it all better”

As you helped me to dab all the blood from my sweater

But it’s not just the sad times, you’re there every day

You’re always on hand for me on my right, come what may

I love you my darling, you’ve helped me so much

You’ve cleaned so much mess I’d rather not touch

Do I take you for granted? I admit there’s a chance

And I know when you’re missing ‘cos there’s shit in my pants

If I turn to the right, and I see you’re not there

And there’s no one to shout to, no one to care

I’m home all alone, and I’ve run out of arse wipe

I’m gonna end up with a chocolaty pinstripe

Right up the middle of my boxers from Tesco

As I waddle to the kitchen, it’s almost al fresco

I hope that you’re waiting there under the sink

All packed in polythene in a light dusky pink

Or perhaps you’ll be yellow, with scent aloe vera

Good god how much further I wish you were nearer

Look behind the stuff to rid plugholes of gunge

If all else fails here’s a washing up sponge

Look behind the bleach and the bottle of Domestos

And what the hell’s this? A misplaced Fray Bentos?

But now’s not the time to ponder badly packed shopping

Back to the task there’s a bottom needs mopping

I lean in still further to the back of the cupboard

OH THANK GOD I FOUND YOU I emotionally blubbered

Make haste back to bathroom, we waddle with meaning

Trousers back down and commence with the cleaning

You said you had reasons, when you let me down

Said you wished you had stopped my finger being brown

Was I in pain? I’d rather not linger

The only thing that hurt was the depth of my finger

But I forgive you my dear, for your moments of weakness

We all suffer at times from a lack of completeness

Our partnership’s true we need no explanations 

Perhaps my fat finger was on your perforations

It’s best we put behind us this minor mishap and

Despite 7 washes my finger still smells of crap

All the bad times my love are long since forgotten

I promise I’ll always use you on my bottom

For without you I’d probably be using a stick

And clumsily spread some poo on my dick

So our relationship love will blossom like a tree

I’ll use you forever, ’til someone does it for me

Toilet paper holder



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s