Diarrhea

There is beauty in destruction,

There is beauty in the pain .
As the stomach grumbles ,
With frowns and disdain .

Yet it starts bloating up ,
Fills up like hot balloon.
You might call it embarrassing,
But I call it a boon .

Runs down like a fountain,
It empties with thunder and rains ,
clears of whatever you had eaten,
Just let it go, you can't restrain.

Though it feels like it took away ,
The last remains of strength .
Drop by drop it goes out,
After traveling through intestinal length.

You become star of the day,
With the washroom you high-jack.
You create your own rainbow,
With particles red ,green and black .

It leaves no traces though,
but few splatters on commode,
The flush wipes the whole creation,
After you released all your load .

There is light at the end of tunnel,
Post one go, feels like time to celebrate.
But ,you just sit there after washing up ,

For the next call you wait !