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Pooetry

Where The Sun Don’t Shine

This heinous deed is known by many names.
But what it is not, is a fun loving game.

For poohaps the third time in my life…
My finger slipped into the brown strife.

I’ve always feared this dreaded connection.
Suddenly pale had become my complexion.

I ran to the sink to remedy this quandary.
Desperately I must remove this mockery.

So I washed and scrubbed and I cleaned…
To remove any trace of tainted baked bean.

Finally, I was free from the sticky finger curse.
Only I forgot to wipe my stinky flesh purse.

Pure Pooetry

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