Poem Survivor is a new kind of contest
To find out which poem is voted the best.
The rules are quite simple, although a little absurd.
They are so unique, that they have never been heard.
You sit on the toilet, and read the poems in the file
And take out the one that you think quite vile.
There’s an empty roll holder on the wall to your right
And no toilet paper in sight.
You have only one option; you know what to do
The poem is eliminated; it’s flushed down the loo.
The toilet is busy, and in no time at all
The poems once plenty, their numbers now small.
Better and better, the poems surely get
Till my poem survived, it didn’t get wet
There were storms of protest from poets everywhere
They all complained the result was unfair.
My poem won; but I have to admit
It was written in longhand on sandpaper grit.