Pooetry, War

Droppin’ Bombs

Droppin’ bombs fall like droppin’ loads.
Fecal from above, grossly it explodes.

Incoming hellfire, straight from a gun.
I return fire, brown pellets from my bum.

A stinky gas grenade is thrown, I duck for cover.
Too late, all around is the reek of brown blubber.

Last breath with no air freshener in sight.
Enemy stench has become my plight.

Call for backup, but the toilet paper is out!
An honorable death, this fecal fallout.

Proudly on the porcelain is our final battle stand.
Though on the tiles the sloppy mess does land.

We take the hit for our fallen brethren.
Awaken on the loo, pooping in Heaven.

Pure Pooetry

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