Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Adam S Mar 2015
Walking around with my head held low,  
Unable to escape this status quo,
Understanding that feelings I thought were gone,
Were only suppressed even after so long

Sands swallow my feet as the tide comes closer,  
This never ending search an emotional roller coaster,
But I've not stopped looking,  each night and day,
Ever since that moment when I flushed my poo away,  

I walk along the beach,  perhaps he's landed there,
It pains me so much,  as he'll think I didn't care,
I sent him away like a discarded used ******,
I take each step carefully incase my poo I do stamp on

I've even checked the sewage works,
They shout "away!  You're not authorised",
If only they understood,
Just how much I've been traumatised

Thus this journey I must continue,
Until my poo I rediscover,
Whilst I suffer constant cramps,
As I refuse to make another.
If this confuses you I suggest you check my previous poem entitled flushed.
Adam S Oct 2014
A vision of my poo, 
Haunts me in my sleep,
I don't want to leave you,
Words it whispers whilst I weep

But the neighbours complain,
The stench is too strong,
They demand I send it away, 
Along with its pong 

But I don't want to lose my poo,
I don't want a final goodbye,
And everytime I try and flush,
I just break down and cry.

— The End —