Dear Bladder…

DEAR BLADDER…

I’d like to take my body back,
Relinquish your control.
To pick the times I want to pee,
Well, that’s my desperate goal.

You seem to choose the worst of times
To make your presence known.
Dancing, sneezing, laughing and
Wet pants will send me home.

Stop waiting ‘til I’m at the door,
With tights pulled up in place.
Then quickly make me yank them down
With very little grace.

Get fit at 50 I’ve been told,
Oh please don’t make me laugh!
‘Aerobics made her wet herself’
Will be my epitaph.

Yoga causes constant drips
And cycling wets the seat.
And when they see me at the gym
They fetch the plastic sheet!

I must absorb the water when
I’m in the swimming pool.
You make me leak the whole way home;
That really is quite cruel.

The times I’ve had too much to drink,
You send the dreaded drip.
Then make me clench and shuffle walk:
Crossed legs and swivelling hips.

The worst is rushing to the loo;
I’ve left it far too late.
I’m through the door, the bowl’s in sight
And clearly you can’t wait –

You seem to think I don’t need time
To get my knickers off.
No chance to even take a seat,
God help me if I cough!

So bladder dearest, pack it in
I’ve really had enough.
Your help’s not needed anymore
You don’t agree? Well tough!

I think it’s best that I decide
The times I need to go.
I don’t need you to tell me when –
I’M SURE I’LL BLOODY KNOW!

This pisstastic poem was first published here! For more from Midlife Dramas In Pyjamas click any of the images below (unless you’re on Facebook on your mobile!)

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