Without Much Grime

I finally sorted out a pooem to write.
A majestic tale, all covered in shite.

It’s been a while between these tales.
As release so slowly, the same speed as snails.

But finally the time has come to begin.
And open my taint with a fiendish grin.

This tale writes itself, so easy, so calm.
But the stink reminds me of a farm.

Majestic and seamless, it flows into the bowl.
Just as peaceful as taking a Sunday stroll.

Cleaned up easily, in very little time.
A simple pooem without much grime.

Pure Pooetry

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