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Pooetry

A Tearful Time

I could feel my deuce pushing through…
But boy oh boy, I had to take a poo!

I made my way up the stairs…
But my deuce kept pushing without a care.

Would I make a terrible mess?
I walked much faster and began to stress.

But at last I reached my destination.
I planted my cheeks without hesitation.

Then an explosion sent my deuce flying.
It lay below and left my butthole crying.

Pure Pooetry

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