To be a Toilet Paper Roll Again

I once was a toilet paper roll resting quietly on the wall
Minding my own softness,
Then some ass came along, tore off my face and wiped herself with it.
Imagine having your bloody face smeared with crap.
Her follow-up was to cast my face into the piss swamp,
And proceeded to repeat the performance with my head.
That would be enough to prompt suicide for any normal roll,
But then, the damn dam busted in
And the swamp, my face, my head and all the other crap
Fell down this hole in the place,
Slithered down an iron pipe
And drown in a sea of putrefaction.
I was later joined by the rest of myself.
Everyone else down there and I were in a lot of crap,
Then a funny thing occurred:
My rotting broken body seeped through the soil like a fart in a tight space
And my essence was found and adopted by the roots of an old oak tree.
I took solace in one of her limbs.
I was safe for a time and rested, but not for long.
Along came the chain saw to tear her limb from limb,
Then the logger truck and the mill with its mulcher, and then, yuck.
I was thrown into an over-crowded pool of other pulpy people.
The rollers reminded me of older days,
And the dryers restored me to a form similar to an old familiar one.
Familiarity ended as these guys plastered ink in weird patterns on my face,
Rolled me up with others like me,
And threw me on a doorstep.
Some mindless moron stared at my ink covered face,
Reading stories of deception, disinformation, decadence, destruction,
Distraction and dysfunction.
Such crap I have become.
I would give my face to be a toilet paper roll again.