It Came!

It came, it came!

And I couldn’t be more thrilled.

In shame so lame

I feared I wouldn’t be billed

The daily tax that I’ve come to expect 

From which my guts and my bowels do so elect 

To push through me and into the bowl below

Upon which I sit like a king, nay Duke 

That precious excretion of poop, so

I must smile, be cheery, this late poop’s fluke,

Has me crying aloud, It Came, it came!

Ahh, now if only I had a flame. 

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