Still Gotta Pick my Nose…in my rubber room,

When in my special jacket,

The one I wear when in my rubber room,

I have this one problem,

That of picking my nose,

Can’t do it with a broom,

Cause I will have splinters,

In my nose all to soon,

Can’t ask the little men in the white jackets,

They are as repulsed as you are reading this poem.

So instead of my fingers, I have to use what’s free,

That of my toes & they are much better than any tree,

No more splinters to worry about,

But I find it hard to get my head down to my toes,

So to my nose, I bring my toes,

And use whichever one I can,

Stick it right in there and scratch,

And take what I can get,

No matter the size or shape,

Just so I can keep picking my nose,

And what a workout this gives my toes…

                                                      (ed)