Did you know it's National Poetry Month? Well I didn't and I don't write poetry because I can't rhyme and when I write non rhyming poetry it looks so silly to me, but nonetheless, this is what's on my mind and since it's on my mind, I figured I'd write a poem about it. Here goes:

Every time I announce to my family that I am going to poop,

I do it so they will get the hint to leave me alone. 

Instead, each child hears “come talk to your mother,”

and as they rush towards me, I hear a moan

from my stomach. A rumbling, a growl, a thunder

I want to hear your stories, I do, but if I do so now it’s going to be a blunder

Please, children, let me take a shit in peace,

how that will be, I’ll just continue to wonder....