Baby wipe poem

A poem about a baby wipe

It’s sad but also true

For when done with mopping baby things

Its flushed right down the loo

“Its gone” the owners cry with glee

As it spins around the pan

The pack said it is flushable

Now isn’t that just grand

But with regret this isn’t true

Well some it is, but not

Flushable may say the pack

But it takes some time to rot

So it sits there in the sewer well

Catching more than you dare think

What else goes down your toilet bowl?

And the kitchen sink?

The wipe it grows, it clogs right up

With everything it binds

A big old snag the sewer has

Now nothing will pass by

So the lesson here is nice and simple

You must bag your baby wipe!

Please don’t flush that mucky rag

Make sure you bin at night.


Link – can a wet wipe pull and aeroplane?  Check this out –

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