The Stinky Stank, A Poem
The stinky, strong stank
That I think that I thank,
When I thought that I sank,
In the toilet;
Smelled of decomposed feet,
And the stuff that you eat,
When it’s under the street,
Once you’ve passed it.
I tried to climb free,
But you didn’t see
Me,
When you came in and flushed it.
(by jflatnote)
About jflatnote
James White is data steward/monitoring and evaluation program manager for a regional non-profit, and pursues many different hobbies in the little time not consumed by work and family. James lives with his wife and their four children.
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