Booger Boy

There was a little booger boy,
His fingers green and sticky.
He liked to pick his boogers out
And have a little licky.

He made a life size statue
Made of mucus, snot and spit,
And shaped it in the image
Of himself, slimmed down a bit

Each day he'd lick the statue's feet,
Or suck it's bogey toes.
Until one fateful day
He ate it all up in one go.

He started with the statue's legs,
Ate right up to the waist.
He'd swallowed the green penis whole,
It left a nasty taste.

By the time he got up to the chest
He started to feel ill.
But still he nibbled up the arms
And chewed the neck as well.

This frenzied mastcation,
And a gut of mucal paste,
Was making little Booger Boy
Snot back the sicky taste.

He wretched twice as he downed the eyes
And licked the dried up lips.
The hair was kind of gooey
And the ears had crusty bits.

He sat there feeling stuffed and ill,
With just the nose to eat.
But as it dripped there in his hand
he shot up to his feet.

For suddenly it came to him,
That violent sickening urge
To chuck his guts up there and then,
He fought against the surge.

He ran into the toilet,
Locked the door and belched like thunder.
His lower jaw just touched the bowl
As he began to chunder.

An Avalanche of snot and bile
Came shooting from his lips.
A fountain yellow, gold and green,
With orange lumpy bits.

It filled the bowl in seconds,
Then it sprayed across the floor.
And after just three minutes
It was half way up the door.

Poor booger boy was sinking
As the mucus kept on flowing,
Up to his chest, above his neck,
The booger sea kept growing.

It rose up to the ceiling,
As he slumped upon the ground.
And alas, as he lay puking,
Poor old Booger boy was drowned.