Death By Doodie

Coated in brown is your final demise.
A horrid departure we all despise.
No one wants a poopy death.
Our anus’ steal our final breaths.
And exposed for all is our brown eyes.

Lowered to grave, a look so peaceful.
The tombstone is made of fossilised fecal.
But the way to go was not pleasant.
Death bequeathed a sloppy present.
We’ll resurrect poo for a comeback sequel.

With voodoo-poopoo we perform the rebirth.
Pooping ourselves out at an enormous girth.
Brown and black magic and a spray of fragrance.
It’s a long shit so it requires lots of patience.
Shat into empty grave, we emerge from the earth.

Pure Pooetry

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