My Neighbour's Butt Poem by sylvia spencer

Here I stand, week in and week out just filling
up with rain water in case there's a drought.
Sometimes I wonder if I have done wrong
because I am left out here, all year long.
I may lose some water when there are lack
of showers but it's just to help those wilting
flowers.
I stand in the yard counting the seasons, no
doubt those inside have their reasons, because
all I am is an old butt full of rain, being emptied
and filled over and over again.
When the leaves dropp in from the autumn fall
I feel like banging my butt against the wall,
because all they do is cramp my style only when
left to long they smell so vile;
yet who am I to complain I am only here to
collect the rain.
Then there are days when my fill is less than a
quarter, then on comes a storm and I am like a
lamb led to the slaughter. Rain falling so fast with
nowhere for the overflow, oh how my life is full of
woe.Then winter sets in with it's ice and snow and
that really causes a dreadful blow.
Rain water turned to ice, as solid as a rock
so I have now become a safe that you cannot unlock.
When the spring arrives and the thaw makes a start,
dont take off my lid because I smell like an old fart.