A young ambitious toilet roll
Lamented to the toilet bowl:
‘I want a choice of good careers,
Instead of simply wiping rears’.
The toilet bowl, embarrassed,
Flushed nervously and said:
‘I’ve heard that rolls with lots of class
Are sometimes made of bread’.
The toilet roll at once unravelled.
Then, at snail-like speed it travelled,
Going south for several days
Until it found some mayonnaise.
In papery voice it coughed a bit
And softly spoke: ‘Oh please,
I’d love some soggy lettuce
And an orange slice of cheese’.
The toilet roll now felt fantastic
And, in cloak of clingy plastic,
Climbed and climbed and got itself
Upon a supermarket shelf.
And while it had no taste at all
And lacked a certain crunch,
It was sold for one pound ninety nine
And eaten up for lunch.