Passing gas
Human refuse is three of a kind
One of which is the most unkind
Spare the liquid, spare the solid
These may flow or stay stoically stolid
But take any country, take any state
Wicked one is the gaseous state
Gently escaping amidst the crowd
The gasser feeling all too proud
Suffering and gasping mates in pathetic states
Cursing in silence at their asphyxiated fates
This is what I call as a fart
Escaping the bottom quicker than a dart
Emanates fast even before you could think
Pervades in a wink and creates a stink
Fine perfume it ain't
Stench truly makes you faint
One may be a pauper
Without even a copper
Or born with a silver spoon
Matters not, for all would swoon
When someone starts to relentlessly exhaust
Inhalation of which would soon exhaust
Even the great titan called Atlas
Who would get suffocated and at last
Pinch his nose and drop the earth
Lose his balance at his girth
Just because some strong behind
Has torn a torrent of a broken wind
May be a crowded transport bus
Or amidst a number of people in rush
The silent killer acts in hush
The farter delivers without any fuss
Mercilessly he lets go one after the other
Wiggling passengers rubbing on one another
Shaking their heads with a very heavy sigh
As the farter serves one more in his glorious high!
Well, this is also one form of excretion
Needs no exertion, yet another God's creation!
Better run for your life
When your breathing is in strife
There could be a farter on prowl
Like a day hawk and a night owl
When the wind blows beware
With a ballooned underwear
This guy could cruelly let go one
To breathe the silent one is no real fun
-This poem was written by me in response to a friendly challenge by one of my colleagues, who gave me the subject and all of fifteen minutes to come-up with something funny!