Ladie's loos


Gone are my illusions
Of the ladies loos
Far from pristine
Not even close to clean
My sheen is shattered
Toilet paper tatters
Piddles pitter patter
A purposely polluted floor
A champagne rain fluted pour
Pretty girl sat astride
open doors
an illusion gone
in the cauldrons
and cackles
the ramshackles of cubicles
dignity seems elusive
in my girls dress
I felt guilt pang privy
To learn of this mess
and as I reported back to boy camp
they stood drop jawed
as I shared
Always a feat to amaze them.

So it must have been bad.