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Pooetry

Impoossible Mission

First thing in the morn…
Something wicked began to spawn.

I could feel the dangerous mass slowly build.
By my recent consumption, I wasn’t thrilled.

Giant burgers and juicy steaks.
Though they were tasty, they sealed my fate.

The mass had accumulated volatile pressure.
How much you ask? No one could measure.

With a fantastic trumpet, the warning did sound.
Everyone evacuated while I delivered the mound.

One by one people stepped aside.
And let me through with my awkward stride.

Was it mission impossible? Absolutely not!
Mission accomplished! With a mighty PLOP!

Pure Pooetry

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