Shithouse - 2011/05/19

Whenever I walk in it my fear arises
As it appears marked by predecessors
Black ash on the walls tells a story
Yet putrid scents are the confessors
Left by those lacking basic courtesy
To sooth the colons anger for a time
If only to spare their sad coworkers
From realizing they dropped the dime

Each day I smell somebody elses mess
As it doggedly clings to my nostrils
Each day I am faced with this choice
That regardless brings me no thrills
Time to choose what role I will play
Shall I sell the deceit of fresh air
Or will I forget my dignity and wipe
Treading where angels never can dare

Or like others perhaps I will ignore
Pretending the stench does not exist
So I may go about my normal business
Ever futile while the aroma persists
As a buzz saw in the back of my mind
Thoughts of fierce consequences spin
Yet while nobody at all gives a shit
They relax by not doing a damn thing

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