A Southern Itch

I have this itch down below.
It’s where hands should never go.

This damn itch must be located.
Maybe it’s a couple pubes, braided.

It’s between a rock and a hard place.
Or should I say my brown disgrace.

That’s If you know what I mean.
I gotta scratch it without being seen.

But I don’t want my hands and fingers…
To come back with stinky lingers.

So I sit here with tension mounting.
Until it’s toilet time I’ll be counting.

I try not to skitz out or go nuts.
But I badly need to scratch my butt.

I twist and squirm like a squiggly worm.
Cheeks are clenched so damn firm!

Toilet time is here! I bolt to the loo.
Under the guise of dropping number two.

Pure Pooetry

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