Poem: A Deep Meaningful Journey

Some people eat curry for breakfast, lunch & tea,
Why oh why do they have to sit next to me?
I have no issue with their culinary choice,
The spice as a cultures inner voice,
Usually I’m not much of a moaner,
But I draw the line at offensive body aroma,
The same with people who drink a gallon of Jack,
And proceed to join me on the bus, at the back,
I’m friends with Mr Daniels don’t get me wrong,
But at 8:30am, it’s just a tad strong,
So as I ride the number 22,
Sat twixt a distillery and vindaloo,
I hope my journey flies by like a dart,
At least no-one will notice if I fart.


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