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There's a five alarm fire in my ass oh what class.
Can't walk can't eat, can't breathe
without getting gas
And it is clear to me
my mind and body are not is harmony
and my intestines are my enemy
It's a shame to eat and feel the pain
It's a crime that I sit here all the time
that I sit here making rhymes
It's a shame
I think I'm going insane.
You know I find it quite amusing
doctors fix hearts and lungs while snoozing
I can't simply equate
they can't fix my simple belly aches
So, I guess I will never see
the person that I was capable to be
cause my intestines have control of me
this porcelain throne attached to me
just simply will not let me be
Sometimes I want to yell go to hell
when the doctor says try some citrocel and
you will feel just swell
after 20 years of this IBS History
It's gonna take more than just fiber therapy
This is no longer any fun
I'm calling Dr. Kevorkian
I'd say doctor please oh please
take me from this terrible disease.
He'd say, no you have no deadly infection
just a bad malfunctioning rectum
So I guess I will have to wait
and naturally disintigrate
But while I site here waiting
I watch my spirit slowly fading
You know I don't do drugs or smoke
No not one.
But sometimes I feel like going out and having
some old fashion fun
and that's when I reach for
a shot of good ole immodium.
Wait to guarantee no trouble
You better make it a double.
So as your read this poem before me
You may think hey this women needs psychotherapy
But nothing could ever end this great sadness
Except putting and end to this intestinal madness.
You know some people dream of an office with a view.
I dream of an office with a loo.
Some say their prayers on bended knee
I say them while sitting in the office lavatory.
Dear God pleae make it stop
Make it go away
So I don't have to take another sick day.

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