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Pooetry, War

Mutation Pootation

I reared my ugly butt from the ruins,
And smelled the god-awful pooin’s.

There has been a nuclear warhead of craptastic devastation.
It had left all of humanity a sick mutation.

All the survivors had been disfigured grossly.
Their bodies and backsides joined together mostly.

Screams of pain and suffering all around.
And the occasional brown birthing sound.

In fact, much worse at a second inspection.
Mutants who frothed a rancid defecation.

Their brown gooey forms, a sight to behold.
Seeping from all orifices, a gross fecal mould.

I too had become a disfigured Poo Mutant.
Out my mouth came the fecal pollutant.

Pure Pooetry

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