A thunderous bog churned within, I held on with all my strength but it began to grow thin.
Surely I wouldn’t void my guts, in my pants like a fecal putz.
But the bite grew stronger and had me worried, I made my way to the throne before I slurried.
I made it safely without a moment to lose, and filled the bowl with thunderous poos.
This has been a pooem by Papa Poosepi.