[Based on a true story!]

I walked into the cubicle
to do what I must do,
little did I expect the sight
of someone else’s pooh.

It lay there looking at me
as I stood and looked at it,
I really shouldn’t have to deal
with someone else’s shit.

So flush you say, flush it away
be held not in the trap
of staring blank and helpless
at someone else’s crap.

I tried my friends I pulled the chain
once, twice and then a third,
but could not rid the bloody bowl
of that someone else’s turd.

It hits me should I leave now
I risk looking like a fool,
perceived as perpetrator
of the someone else’s stool.

You can see just how I’m stranded
that the net is truly strung,
caught by the fear of being blamed
for someone else’s dung.

As I pulled myself together
reality hit me with a thump,
I must extricate my presence
From someone’s dump.

Thinking furiously
I came upon the notion
of stuffing in reams of loo roll
to cover someone else’s motion.

On exiting the stall forthwith
I had my first stroke of luck,
there was no-one to connect me
with someone else’s muck.

I ran back to my office
all aquiver I confess,
having dodged the dark brown bullet
of someone else’s mess.

I tell this tale of caution
so it’s not the same for you,
that you find you’re at the mercy
of someone else’s number two.

I hope that those who’re out there
whose toilet habits may be slack,
will realise henceforth the suffering
caused by someone else’s cack.

Forward planning’s all important
now that I’ve seen the light,
to avoid any reoccurrence
of finding someone else’s shite.

Were you to ask for my opinion
I’d say find out the cleaners rota,
so you may be spared the anguish
Caused by someone else’s floater.

Else pay thirty pence of silver
to use a public loo,
where at least you can complain
upon finding someone else’s pooh.

Song Of The Day ~ Toploader – Achilles Heel