I must admit that proof reading a potential future book has made me realise that there are a number of rhymes that have laid dormant for a few years. This period of time coincides with that of Henry's 'memories', which allowed me to simply write and save rather than publish on this site. Now Henry is taking a break, I will try to help fill that massive gap by resurrecting a few relatively pertinent rhymes.
I am reluctant to share the multitude of other rhymes that do not necessarily pertain to stomas, because rhyme can be irritating for some people and if it's also not relevant to to the prime subject matter of this site, then it might be deemed inappropriate. My impression was that Henry managed to circumvent this dilemma and introduce a myriad of subjects, which, from my perspective, enhanced the dialogue on here in a very positive way.
My life can now bear testament
to this word - ‘accoutrement’,
because of all the things I need
to stay alive and to succeed.
I feel it is a blooming drag
that I now need to wear bag
as a miscellaneous tool
to catch my smelly, wayward stool.
It’s on my belly every day,
which means that there’s simply no way
that I can get away from it
unless I want to swim in shit.
For I have got a stoma, and
I hope that you will understand
it’s not something that I wished for
but it’s something I can’t ignore.
It isn’t just the bag you see
that’s an accoutrement for me,
it’s all the other blinking stuff,
which makes me feel I’ve had enough.
There’s all the inconvenience
of pads for my incontinence,
and loads of stuff for cleaning up
for the predictable cockup.
This is when the bag might leak,
and when I need my own technique
for getting clean and changing clothes
which is the part I’ve always loathed.
All these things I cart around
for if I don’t, it might be found,
that my life is so full of shit,
I feel I’ve had enough of it!
B. Withers 2019