Bottom


I hope that others look on me as deep,

Witty, perhaps, serene and debonair:

But I’m known by the company I keep

And I’ve got you behind me everywhere.


Others I try to approach with dignity

To give a good impression to their mind:

I turn to go, another view of me

Presents – yours is the face I leave behind.


My softest paper shows consideration,

I faithfully transport you to the loo:

Why must you interrupt my conversation

And air what hardly passes for your view?


Prelates and professors, potentates,

Please don’t look down on me for my poor bottom:

Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, and William Gates,

And Taylor Swift - you all know you’ve got ‘em.


Almighty Lord, that has made all things well,

You know our secrets, however we may hide.

You did not wish our thoughts to preen and swell:

You gave us bottoms to bring down our pride.


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