Gentlemen, Please, don’t you see?
When you miss, you piss on me.
Looking down from such a height,
You mayn’t understand my plight.
When aim is off, sprinkles fly.
Toilet rim, and floor near by,
Covered in that yellow stuff.
I tell you, I’ve had enough!
Never with bare feet will tread,
Even with my shoes I dread
Tracking it to other rooms.
On carpet, once clean, it looms.
If you fail to hit your mark,
And not want my temper spark,
Pick up a wipe, perhaps two,
You should clean up after you.
– – June Nash