Pain has overwhelmed my body,
To the extent that I bend at ninety.
Miserable has formed my middle name;
The lavatory is now my dame.
It feels like diarrhoea but air exits;
Stool ejects when I squeeze it.
My navel hurts like a newborn child,
When nothing ejects and all is piled.
I had three days MC and today too;
Was to be on guard but I can't do.
I called the OPS Room yesterday;
They freaked and hollered in dismay.
Disorganised they are and forever be;
Even takes them ages to go and pee.
For some hours they called my friends;
Looking for one to burn his weekend.
Call it unfair but that is their style,
To arrow blindly and be hostile.
In any case I must say thanks,
To he who volunteered to walk the planks.
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