Splish Splash

I was bored today so I wrote a poem. Enjoy!

There once was a man named Pip
Who lived a remarkable life.
A life of strenuous hardship,
and most unbearable strife.

You see, Pip was the steady target
Of much ridicule and farce,
For the poor man had an arse for a face,
And, conversely, a face for an arse.

He couldn't stand being asked to sit,
For sitting bruised his nose.
In spite of his obvious charm and wit,
He had far fewer friends than foes.

It must be hard to get to know a man
Who has buttocks where there should be cheeks.
I guess you just look where you can
When either end of him speaks.

When Pip was a young schoolboy,
He devised a brilliant ruse.
The bulk of his ingenious ploy,
Involved putting his hands in his shoes.

As he stood handstanding and legs in the air,
He saw a world he'd never known.
As he looked on into all of the faces there,
He knew he'd never felt so alone.

It seemed plenty of foul, unpleasant guff
Came out of that end too.
After a while he'd had quite enough,
And returned to the world he knew.

And to this day Pip remains in his place,
Avoiding the looks in their eyes.
It might be nicer to look at a face,
But at least an arse never lies.