The need was urgent, consuming
It was coming
A dash through the door and an escape into my sanctum Santorum
Rapidly I sit
What is that?!
A look, a touch, realization, horror!
Seething anger. 
A little deer-like pebble of doo-doo upon the seat of my throne. 
Now smashed and attached to me
Hard words. Dirty words. 
Who has done this!?!
This injury!  This violation. 
No one admits fault. 
No one knows how it got there. 
I think it was the toddler. 
I HOPE it was the toddler…
Disgruntled.

In Haiku Form:
Urgent call of fate,
A Throne marred by betrayal -
Silence cloaks the blame.