It was one of those days and one of those turds.
So here I sit rhyming some crappy words.
The day was slow and quite tedious.
Like the poo that was so egregious.
You wouldn’t want to know to be quite frank.
To get it all out I had to use a crank.
It was the kind of poo that makes you feel ill.
Before, during and after it’s brown landfill.
It was embarrassing too, you know how that can be.
The sounds from my ass, sputtering with glee.
You see I like to dump stealthily, silent and deadly.
This was the opposite, a butt trumpet medley.
The more I clenched tight, the squeakier the chirps.
By the end I gave in to the sloppy rectal burps.
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