Urinal

Shiv’s got me thinking
on men in the john
holding tight their tool,
or manhood,
while anxiously they
whiz
along.

All eyes forward now
let not a word be uttered.
No sports.
No weather.
And most certainly
NO
mother!

To stand up and pee
not as glam as we thought.
More angst
and torture,
than freedom…
The urinal
hath
wrought.

 

by: etta
www.depressionmarathon.blogspot.com