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Pooetry

The Raging Storm

My eye of brown began to weep,
as a toxic gas began to seep.

Something has made my coight quite sad,
I don’t know what but it is certainly bad.

I expected tears of chocolate rain,
but I got a thunder bog bringing pain.

The poo storm raged and grew in force,
it would not show me any remorse.

The clouds of turd they were awfully black,
I wondered if I’d survive this fecal attack.

Then with one loud crack the storm had stopped.
I walked away lighter, several kilos were dropped.

Pure Pooetry

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