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Pooetry

Three Flushes

A violent inner spasm…
Came from my rear chasm.

Followed by a tummy rumble.
Bellowing an angry grumble.

Dinner was not playing friendly.
Now it sought the S-bendy.

So I took the throne quickly.
Out came the slimy sickly.

Floodgates opened with all haste.
Oozing a thick brown paste.

And the bowl coated with such a smear.
Three flushes and water still not clear!

Pure Pooetry

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