Rectal Regret

Here’s something I deeply regret.
My underpants are feeling wet.
Soggy from the inside.
And a stain I cannot hide.
Undies are a catchers net.

Inside them lies the horrible truth.
Something awful did outward sleuth.
I waddle to somewhere safe.
But cheeks smear and chafe.
I press on to the porcelain booth.

But now I’m forced to run.
It’s havoc between my buns.
I absolutely must get there soon…
Else brown whale meets harpoon.
And my pants will weigh a tonne.

Pure Pooetry

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