Why do I always pick my nose,
then wipe the snot upon my clothes?
Or roll it into sticky balls
and flick it at the floor or walls?
Or other times when thin and runny,
smear it ‘cross my face like honey?
Or chip it off in crusty flakes
and eat it ‘til my belly aches?
Am I disgusting? Am I lazy?
Maybe I’m just bogey crazy.
The reason for my bogey-thon
is that my tissues are all gone.
Poem © 2015 Rebecca Colby
Illustration © 2015 Rikin Parekh
Harriet Hailey Harrison,
Loved fantastic hats.
Some were shaped like daisies,
And some were shaped like bats.
Cecelia Seaweed, they call her you know
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