There is a mouse in my friend’s bathroom,
Who wanted to add to his diet, a little zaiqaa ;
So he started munching on her bath soap,
And is now suffering from pica.
He thought he would slip under the radar,
And no one would smell a ‘rat’ ;
But he isn’t very clever, you see,
Coz every morning, he leaves behind a trail of crap.
At first I thought he might be a cute fledgling,
Who’s gnawing and chewing because he’s teething ;
But he seems to have a mature taste,
On a detergent bar, he wouldn’t dare his buds waste.
A metrosexual male that he is,
Only a fruity, flowery soap would do ;
To keep his bowels velvety smooth,
Rinse his interiors and soften and scent his poo.
Does he lick the wall paint,
or more abominably, eat his own shiite ?
Does he sneak a snack of chalk,
Or devour some teeth chattering crushed ice ?
Is there a bloodsucking hookworm lurking in his guts,
Or does he have tingling and numbness and bones that are weak ?
Is he suffering from separation anxiety,
Or is it a companion that he longs for and desperately seeks ?
If you, my dears, see a mouse roaming,
With bubbles from his mouth foaming ;
Do not scream and get a load of wrinkles,
Instead, just keep calm and give us a tinkle.
We’ll load him with iron and pump him with calcium,
And put him on some counselling and therapy ;
We’ll even register him on a wedding dot com,
Find him a beautiful wife and yell ‘whoopee !’