Ode to Ole’ Buddy
I’ve finally found you, it happened so soon,
you’re the handicapped stall in the men’s locker room.
Tucked far away, from corporate violation,
you welcome me without hesitation.
You’re what every man wants, but can never find,
the best toilet at work, when I’m in a bind.
Knowing full well of what I’ve been eating,
your door remains open for our daily meeting.
You’re the King of all thrones yet you never gloat,
as your warm water splashes, and soothes my choat.
Sausage and Peppers, meat products and cheese,
all I do is stand up, and you flush it with ease.
No buttons no levers, nothing is tough,
except for the toilet paper, which is a bit rough.
You’re always in order; you never seem to fail,
especially on Friday’s, from Thursday’s Bad Ale.
The clean seat is down and always fresh scented
To accept the brown gifts that I have fermented.
Should other persons find you, I’d become irate,
you’re spacious and airy, and the handles are great.
Even though you are Handicapped, you’re special to me,
And I’ll visit you often when I have to pee.
My stomach is growling, so I’ll see you real soon,
same time every day, 5 minutes ‘till noon.
One day I’ll be gone, and you will be missed,
my buddy who lets me do more than just piss.
There’s no other place I would rather spend,
Then with my Ole’ Buddy…my pal…my friend..