I just wanted to share something I saw posted on Facebook.
Charlie was born one Sunday night
due to the surgeon's knife.
I didn't quite expect him, but
he helped to save my life.
To try and gain a pain-free life
that was my only goal.
I woke to find that things had changed.
I'd gained an extra hole.
He doesn't look offensive,
he's a rose that's still in bud.
Mainly he stays quiet.
But he's not always so good.
Six thirty every morning,
he thinks it's time to wake.
He rustles up my breakfast
with a steaming hot pancake.
He then relaxes for a while.
I can forget he's there.
Generally he's pretty good
but sometimes he's a 'mare.
You can't relax with him around
because all of a sudden,
the thunder starts to rumble,
he can fart just like a good 'un.
Sometimes he is docile
and you hear nothing for hours.
The next he's filling up the bags,
like he has superpowers.
He can be really smelly
and gives out quite a reek.
And when he is mischievous,
he can cause your bag to leak.
I've told you all the bad things,
but he really is my friend.
‘Cause ever since I've had him,
I've been slowly on the mend.
So raise a glass to Charlie
He will probably stay forever.
And we can make it through this life
as long as we're together.
