I could be mistaken for spot,
I could be almost a dot,
but I am the greater of all evils,
I am he, I am blot,
maybe you can find me on the landscape,
maybe in the middle of your exam paper,
I am a troll and maybe a bit of a gremlin,
I am loo roll made of sandpaper,
I might be a little mistake,
then again I could be the mother of all disasters,
sometimes I am left unannounced,
until I light the touch-paper,
then bang goes the secret,
out of the wardrobe and into the light,
thanks for having me, you are all so kind,
thanks again and good night,
whilst the dot is a pretty perfect full stop,
and the spot is in the middle of your back,
almost a boil and sore as if a thousand ants,
where clapping on your bare behind,
I am more artistic I have a certain aura,
I am more of a poet in wolves clothing,
I could be the devils own daughter,
so blot me out if you dare,
and I will reply life is never fair,
just like some folklore demon,
falling from the middle of a page,
I am the unannounced party guest,
vomiting over your finally perfect souffle,
shit happens in ever larger amounts,
and just like him above I always stain,
so keep on going, do not fear me,
I will always be ready to appear,
sometimes I do little practical jokes,
yep that huge shit eating fly in your beer,
so like him above it is time to fly,
see you soon buddy, old mate,
we will meet again before you die!

© D.Hobson April 2014