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Magic, Pooetry

Witches Brew

My rectum is on fire, what on earth did I eat?
My cheeks are receiving a roasting heat.

Then I get a slight hint through a nostril whiff.
Scent jumps starts memory with a horrid sniff.

Fumes of Satan arise from this stained bowl.
Poohaps these nuggets are infact red hot coals.

The toilet water bubbles like a sinister witches brew.
Brown floaters erupt into a stinky foul glue.

I hear a cackle, or is that just the winds howling?
I swear something beneath is shitfully scowling.

Like a bat out of Hell, I must bust outta here.
But I must wipe first before being in the clear.

So I do then hurriedly depart this cursed place.
The witches clutches nearly snatched my disgrace.

Pure Pooetry

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