Toilet Bowl Girl Poem by Anisa Tara

She uncorks this cheap champagne,
Tastes a little like bread mold.
Joyously reveling in her pain,
At the bottom of her toilet bowl.

This champagne is toilet cleaner,
The shower head spouts yellow.
By the moonlight is a dreamer,
Her toilet water rather shallow.

The toilet cleaner is out the window,
Shards shimmer in the night.
The toilet bowl girl begins to bellow,
Shower knobs shut tight.

The cheap champagne a waste,
Showers now bone-dry.
The toilet bowl girl is dead,
Some people begin to cry.