Poonami

All day it churned and flipped about,
Behind my tightened belt.
The growing hurricane was like,
None I had ever felt.

The thunderous god inside of me,
Rallied her troops for war.
To stretch across the land and sea,
Like countless times before.

But this time was unusual.
The gusts blowing within,
Were rather strong and substantive,
Instead of paper thin.

Could this finally be the end?
I squealed with childish glee.
Is it time to flush away,
This constipated misery?

I rushed into the bathroom,
And perched upon my throne.
Made myself nice and comfortable,
Inside my temporary home.

I pushed until my eyes teared up,
And heard a little pop.
A wispy bit of air came out,
But that’s where progress stopped.

So there I sat in misery,
Nursing my broken heart.
Came all this way to take a dump,
But only did a fart.

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