The Stank Poem by Nikolai Hall

Twas a fine young day,
And all was in rank,
till the man next to me,
made a terrible stank.

I twisted and turned,
to berate the foul,
but the man still was stinking,
emitting sounds from his bowel.

Feeling quite sick,
I arose in distress,
and questioned him,
'Are your pants in a mess? '

Ignoring my speech,
he let out a sigh,
whilst then I discovered,
the stank was from I!

Shocked at myself,
I began to scowl,
whilst the man next to me,
began a low growl,

He twisted and turned,
to berate the foul,
but I still was stinking,
emitting sounds from my bowel.