Search
Pooetry

Ill

I wasn’t feeling well at all. So I made my way to the bathroom stall.

With each step I grew more Ill. I couldn’t tell from which end I’d spill.

But then I sat and planted my cheeks, what happened next can’t be described as meek.

With a violent eruption my turd was born, it took no prisoners and my coight was torn.

Almost instantly I felt much better. The only issue now is a red coight that’s wetter.

Pure Pooetry

No comments

You can be the first one to leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Search