Woe is me, how lowly I stoop.
Here I sit delivering this poop.
My rancid lump slowly excretes.
Into the bowl, it’s fate it meets.
Oozing and hanging like a soft serve.
Flavour is chocolate, as you’ll observe.
What has got me slumped like a bum?
Down in the dumps with the toilet crumbs.
I think it’s this poo, so gloomy and grim.
As it exits my hole I feel it’s not thin.
It’s enormous girth has depressed my soul.
A dark brown doom has claimed the bowl.
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