Once I was a big poop.My owner pushed and pushed until his face saw white,After 10 farts or so, I finally saw the light,and transformed into diarrhea soup.
We were running lateBut nevertheless on a romantic dateHand in hand walking to workMonday, new week, clean slateBirds sjirping, spring in…
I packed my stuff, suitcase in hand,Traveling all the way down.
I’m anxious, out of the ordinary. I am seeing all colors.Yellow, green, red, but definitely not brown.O no.
This is no longer going to last.I’m sick of John pushing meTo go fastI’m going to hustleTo make sure I am hurting his pooper muscle.
A suitcase or tree, a bomb and a detonator in handThe smell of fear is in the airI need to get out of here.
Right before the click,I feel they are terrified, I’ll go first, I’m not afraidTime for my final hitI…
John is squealingI did a fine jobHis pooper muscle isn’t really healing.I am facing the toilet pot.It’s not over yetI need a new plot.
John’s in the office, having a rough day.I have no mercyAnd refuse to go out of my way.
He’s trying so hardTo hold it inI’m, on the other hand, going all in.