As an arrow flies throughout the sky, it remembers its journey. How it was crafted, Stored, readied, and launched. He remembers the days where all he did was sit and think, where he wished to be free. Now that he is free he realizes that all is not how he dreamed. He was heading towards a target, one that he did not ever dream about. He was going too fast. All he cared for was life as it was, but now as he flies through the sky, breaking the air, he realizes he wasn’t ready.
Out of a **** he made Great Art It was no ordinary **** no! It was straight from the heart, that **** It had lain too long in the dark Now was it's time to start To make its bid for freedom... and for stardom.
It flew like a dart that **** from the heart Like an arrow strung from Cupids bow Little did it know how luminous it'd glow Becoming one of the Greats in the Farting Canon.
It was probably the greatest **** poem ever written In my own humble opinion It was very daring and it smelt of onion It was certainly the fairest fartiest poem I ever seen If it was one of the three Musketeers It would have to have been D'artagoine.
It inflated like a balloon, blew up like a great glass bubble Then it popped and headed off toward England Flying further afield than any **** had ever flown It touched people's hearts, bewitched every nation Resounded around the world Yea! was heard in every Kingdom.
It flew long, it rounded the Horn Like a Lark, that ****, it soared and sung It was no boring old **** It was far fartier and fruiter than that It was a King of Farts Way above the fartiest of farters and all the farting Arthurs It was the real King Arthur The King Arthur of all farts and Farters.
A real Belter was that **** that came from the heart That had all the Angels singing in their cloisters, A real work of Art just like Mozart Or remember... remember your Shakespeare "Hark! A ****, a ****! Whereforth art ? Thou ****" It played its part, that ****, yea! it wielded its Excalibur.
O! there's nothing I'd rather do than lie here blowing sweet bubbles next to you You! on your little flutey flute flute and Me! on my big Bass Trombone.
This is the sequel to my other **** poem "Music a la Toilette". A bit of silliness/ fun.