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Mike Stools
I want a wee wee
I'm dying for a piss
I've never felt my bladder bursting
Quite as bad as this.
The strain is so unbearable
I'm writhing in my chair
I cross my legs and fidget
And I grumble in dispair.
Oh God I need a wee wee
I must go to the toilet
But here I stay to write this poem
For you; I cannot spoil it.
That's the standard you expect
From a professional such as me.
I put my readers way before
My need to have a pee.
Oh bloody hell, I've got to go
I cannot bear this pain.
But first I've got to end this poem
Or everything's in vain.
Wait a minute! No, that's wrong!
I know what I'll do.
I can finish off this poem
When I'm back from the loo....
Excuse me.........
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Aw fuck! I didn't make it.
I went and wet my pants.
I should have gone before I started.
Now I missed my chance.
And so this poem is pointless
For I know one thing for sure.
I've realised that I don't want
A wee wee anymore.
