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Pooetry

Feigned Relief

I grimaced then peaked and felt such relief. 
Cos prior I’d done what ladies call a queef. 

I’d feared my undies were soiled and stained.
Like full moon, that brownly waxed and waned.

But calm and serenity washed over my soul. 
As I delivered the lump from butt to bowl.

Yet wiping proved to be a different matter.
For between cheeks clung hideous splatter.

Wipe after wipe my anus remained brown. 
The never-ending wipe had come to town.

I’m going to need a factory’s worth of paper… 
To see me through this shitty caper. 

Pure Pooetry

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