From a Fart's Point of View

While hiding in the treacherous trenches of thy gut,
Mr. Broccoli & I conspired to bombard thy butt.

Our incessant attacks moments after the meal
bore fruit when out I came with a squeal;
and soon after, whistling through the crack, came my clan,
each with a different melody, as per ‘the plan’.

The sound of music spread far and wide,
drawing remarks that were terribly snide.
But, oh boy—what a sound!
Never before had I heard one so deep and profound.

We farts come in a variety—
some soft, others mighty.
The noisy ones seldom smell
but my quieter cousins are living hell.

A fart is like a fuse—
a little nudge, and all hell breaks loose.