Bladder problems

*** If you want to read a serious poem then stop reading now!***

I seem to have a small bladder,
sometimes I wet the bed,
Liquid escapes my private parts
The smell messes with my head.

I seem to have a little leak
(Maybe even a flood)
It’s enough to turn any dirt
into deep and pure mud!

When I’m out in the shops
The leaks sometimes arise,
Like the other day at McDonalds,
as the cashier passed my fries.

Maybe I drink too much
Would that cause this dilemma?
But the worst this that ever happened
Happened last November.

I was visiting Nana in hospital,
She was so very sick,
and the nurse came into see her
And the piddle came out quick.

And I was so devastated,
The nurse laughed so loud,
But Nana decided to congratulate me,
She was truly proud.

I should explain my Grandmother,
She’s so against polluting the loo,
She thinks it’s a place to get fresh water,
Not to pee or poo.

Nana was cheering,
she decided to call channel ten,
To tell them of my “marvellous feat”
Unfortunately, it was a slow news day again.

So there I was, on T.V,
My face shades of red and further,
That night I got locked in jail
after Nana died of murder.