There’s no particular reason for this poem in case you were wondering!

Jenny’s Coin

Once was Jenny,
dropped a penny,
down in the stinking loo.
She peered in,
a puzzled grin,
whatever would she do.

***

Was never flushed,
the smell it gushed,
and filled the room with gas.
Poor Jenny screamed,
and tears streamed,
her precious coin gone – alas.

***

Would mother dear,
understand fear,
that she most certain felt.
And would she know,
the rancid flow,
and things that it could melt.

***

Her courage plucked,
but it just sucked,
body starts to tremble.
Pulled up her sleeve,
began to heave,
at what it did resemble.

***

She took a stab,
and made a grab,
she fished her hand around.
How she did moan,
she’d found a bone,
near fainted on the ground.

***

Her coin by fluke,
another puke,
her stomach was now reeling.
The coin aloft,
the smell did waft,
’twas the grandest feeling.

***

She meant to twist,
but somehow missed,
she’d slipped upon a turd.
Jenny was dank,
and now she stank,
was feeling quite absurd.

***

The walls they dripped,
the paint was stripped,
she wished that she had ran.
The coin flew high,
into the sky,
right back where it began.

***

By Roger Vincent – author of

“Apostrophe to Zenith A Book of Poems”

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