The shit, out my ass, it did pour;
As a zit being popped squirting out the pore.
Shooting out of my sphincter in the shape of a ball;
It felt so bad, all night crying; I did bawl.
Hours and hours it brewed;
But seconds to get to the pool; my brood.
It was painful but special so I kept it, like a science experiment, in a vial;
Does hoarding my feces make me vile?
Does it make me weak,
the fact that I’ve been doing it for a week?
I don’t care because each time I poo, I watch the inches come off my waist.
The perfect diet, all by dumping my waste.
You think that’s gross?
At least I didn’t tell you of the taste.
