I’m perched on the porcelain, slumped in a hunch.
Trying to poop but my undies are in a bunch.
I can’t find the combo of expressive words.
Constipation denies freedom from turds.
But rhymes won’t help me poop any faster…
What I truly need is the rectal blaster!
Down the turbo lax, force poop to face the facts!
The countdown begins for explosive cracks!
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