# A poem about my life with IBS called "Ode to the Porcelain Throne"



## megtrent (Jun 2, 2003)

ODE TO THE PORCELAIN THRONE- MY LIFE WITH IBSThere's a five alarm fire in my ass oh what classCan't walk, can't eat, can't breathewithout getting gas.And it is clear to me My mind and bodyAre not in harmonyAnd my intestines are my enemy.It's a shame to eat and feel the painIt's a crime that I sit here all the timeThat I sit here making rhymesIt's a shameI think I'm going insane.You know I find it quite amusingDoctors fix hearts and lungs while snoozingI can't simply equateThey can't fix my simple belly aches.So, I guess I will never see the person that I was capable to be Cause my intestines have control of meThis porcelain throne attached to me.Just simply will not let me beSometimes I want to yell go to hellWhen the doctors say "Try come citrocel andyou will feel just swell"After 20 years of this IBS historyIt's gonna take more than just fiber therapy.This is no longer any funI'm calling Dr.KevorkianI'd say Doctor please oh pleaseTake me from this terrible diseaseHe'd say,no, you have no deadly infectionjust a bad malfunctioning rectumSo I guess I will have to waitand naturally disintigrateBut while I sit here waitingI watch my spirit slowly fadingYou know I don't do drugs or smokeNo not oneBut sometimes I feel like going out and havingsome old fashion fun and that's when I reachfor a shot of good ole Immodium. Wait to guarantee no troubleYou better make it a doubleSo as you read this poem in front of meYou may think hey this women need psychotherapyBut nothing could ever relieve this great sadnessExcept putting an end to this intestinal madnessYou know some people dreamof an office with a viewI dream of an office with a looSome say their prayers on bended kneeI say them in the office lavatory.Dear God please make it stop Make it go awaySo I don't have to take another sick day.


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