This piece of high technology,
a finer one ne'er seen,
just like a fancy Rolex watch;
a handsome, smart machine.

But operating properly was
always, not the case.
when, there, I moved, it was
a hulk! It merely took up space!

To make it operational,
I used my talents, vast.
It needed new components.
Those therein, their prime had past.

I purchased what was needed and
these parts were then installed.
Its organs, now, were all replaced;
'twas fully overhauled!

My craftsmanship was due a test.
The atmosphere was hushed.
I pressed the handle. Water surged!
It worked! The toilet flushed!

So, ev'ry time I hear the song
which all good toilets sing,
that serves as a reminder: it,
I, back to life, did bring.

And, though this fact is certainly
the object of some pride;
it's tempered--as I also know
there is another side.

Such efforts, when successful,
bring me joy, in many ways.
The satisfaction does feel nice.
Yes, perseverance pays!

But always, it reminds me, too,
of when my mood was tart.
When selfishness and thoughtlessness
were thriving in my heart.

A special friend requested help
and my response was: I'm
extremely busy. Yes, indeed.
For that, I've got no time!

For what, then, did she seek my help
(which then exposed my warts)?
She asked for my assistance with a
toilet "out of sorts".

Believe me, when this scene appears
I'm struck by jolts, untame!