When you pick your nose
And pull the booger out,
Which is slimy, sticky and black,
I feel awful. I can't feel more pain
Than to see the booger in front of my eyes.
Keep it in your nose.
Tuck all of it in. Don't stick it about.
If you don't stop, be ready for a smack!
Stop it! You're driving me insane!
Keep it in. Even the housefly dies
From the very sight of your nose.
You're a picker and I wish your ugly snout
Would allow the issued booger to come back.
Stop! The habit makes you insane.
Holy is it pick your nose? If it is, you are wise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem