I was a shy wee lad, I tell you it's true
This is a tale of woe, that I will tell you
I was in grade number one, age of five years
This story I tell you, will not bring any tears
Classes were too long, for my restless soul
And in the middle of one, really, I had to go
Squirming at my desk, when the bell finally rang
It wasn't a buzz, a clank, but a horrible clang
Lunchtime, was my chance, to go to the can
I was a shy little boy, not a big strapping man
Deciding to run home, to do my business there
Not liking school washrooms, they gave me a scare
It was tough, but I held in what I had to do
I guess you now know that, I had to poo...
At my front door, reaching for the knob, I confess
My sphincter blew open, and made quite the mess
I called to my mother, she yelled back from inside
She wasn't happy with me, "but held it, I tried!"
I thought mom would help, comfort my little soul
But she sent me to the basement, to the sink I was told
I was a shy wee lad, I tell you it's true
But I went in school washrooms, to do number two
The lesson I learned is, never go in your pants
Go where there's a toilet, if you do have the chance
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a rhyming poem about your childhood. It can be good or bad, happy or sad. |
Author Notes
Thanks to Potopeb for the photo. The lesson that my mother taught me is more valuable than any lesson I learned in school.
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