Getting up through the night
Getting up through the night
Hello toilet my old friend
Come to visit you again
And the sound that is planted
In my brain, still remains
The sound of flushing.
Like a noisy stream that flows
Like a hissy garden hose
The sound of weeing.
In restless dreams you pain alone
I get up and tiddle on
turn on the bedside lamp
run my leg which has the cramp
and the vision softly creeping
while I was sleeping, the vision
that was planted in my brain
is ‘no not toileting again.’
I get up and hear once more
The creaking bathroom door
and then the sound of flushing.
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