Small Fart
no one knows him in the room
except by loss of breath
greeted as unwelcome guest
his stinking scent is death
noses wrinkled in disgust
when sensed this gust of wind
all souls beneath his sickly scent
are far too quickly pinned.
inhaled in gasps of shortened breath
each person feels impending death.
Surprised, all eyes begin to scan
so desperate for a breeze or fan.
Feeling faint they seek escape
from reeking odor, lungs in rape.
A paler pallor faces all.
noses seeking some release.
knees so weak they nearly fall
from lungs too weak to call.
Those outside hear tears and pleas
so open doors for those on knees
finger pointing, whispered tone
but none the smallest fart will own.
Small fart dissipates and leaves
crowd relieved, all sigh.
A slow goodbye that no one grieves
so glad to see the open sky.
No friend the small fart has, he knows.
He comes and goes by wrinkled nose.
All he does so quick offend,
wish to hell he'd swiftly end.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2020
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