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!

 

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