Clench.


So here I am at the bus station,
Boarding a bus with my usual impatience.
But today I was in to much of a rush,
And should have gone before I got on the bus.
My god by the time the bus gets to the Bell inn,
The outlook for my bladder is very grim.
I hold on as we drive down Scott road,
Silently wishing my seat was a commode.
Why are we paused at the Scott arms ?
I fear I may do the driver some harm !
If we don’t immediately pull out quick,
And rescue my floating teeth.
At last Six ways draws close,
I may not have to change my clothes.
Then we get closer as the Barton Arms is passed,
And I try to stifle a windy blast.
As into Birmingham city we pull,
Time to empty the bladder oh so full.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !

 

 

This poem is dedicated to any commuter who like me yesterday put the need to get on a bus and get to work over the need to use the toilet first.

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