up your nose

When one blows one's nose,
no one knows
What one holds
In one's hands.
Can one plan
what comes out,
when one blows one's snout?
When one sees
what has grown
in the depth of one's nose,
Can one fathom what is there?
Does one dare
choose to share?
Together, might we become aware?

As I ponder these my queries,
and develop an obscure theory,
within my nose there is an itch,
feel my face begin to twitch,
and I reach towards my pocket,
for my hanky, to quell this rocket,
that is ready for the launch,
300km up my......
AAAAAAAAAAAAAchew!!!

Is it meant to be green?