Bonjour! C'est Moi.
Please, have a heart,
For don't you know,
That it's no fun to be a fart,
At my maker all will stare,
I alas am only air,
With a natural blend,
Which seems to all offend.
And when my creation makes its sound,
It does all around astound,
Then as through the air I waft,
On my way aloft,
Those who can't themselves contain,
Loudly do complain,
Saying that my stink,
Means they from me must shrink,
So life for me alas, so lonely,
Is something all refuse,
Saying I their noses don't amuse.
So please, a kindly thought,
Would mean I count for more than nought,
And this my spirit will uplift,
As through the air around I drift.