It starts with bloating,
While the food is floating,
Round and round, as the cycle begins.
Your system is disrupted,
As your movements are obstructed,
What should go out, is settling back in.
Your mind is turning into mush,
Amidst your stomach wrestling with your tush,
In this bout where nobody wins.
Fiberific fortitude never have your fill,
Metamucil cocktails served on the treadmill,
Omissions are released, though results are nil.
Bound by endless consternation,
From the effects of chronic constipation.
When the toll is taking its course,
Never fear as relief appears in your shorts.