The Stench Of Carlos

I’m in my bed, and yet I smell... A stench so bad... I cannot tell. From where it comes, it makes me weep, It even haunts me in my sleep. It must be Carlos, I’m quite sure, The foulest feet I can’t endure. They creep through halls, beneath the door, Invading spaces never explored. A sour musk, a rancid breeze, It brings me trembling to my knees. Oh, Carlos, why must you betray Our noses in this cruel display? A bar of soap, a scrubbing fast, Could free us from this smell at last. But until then, I’ll lie and pray, That Carlos’ feet stay far away.