The Outside Loo Poem 1

The Outside Loo Poem

In the dead of night, the wind does bite,

To the outside loo, I must make my flight.

With a creaky door and a chilly breeze,

It stands alone among the trees.

Hurry now, don’t linger too long,

A shiver runs through me; it feels so wrong.

The seat so cold, it gives me a fright,

Under the stars, in the pale moonlight.

No soft loo roll, no no not back then,

‘Twas newpaper on a string ouch what pain.

But if I’m lucky, there’s another way,

A trusty piss pot waits for day.

I can tip it out before the sun’s rise,

Avoiding the loo’s cold, harsh surprise.

In the morning light, the world feels new,

But the memories linger of midnight’s view.

So spare a thought for simpler times,

And the laughable tales in these old rhymes.