Times are Changin’

My routine is changed 
From the glory of the morning
I feel deranged 
As I poop in mourning 

Of the lost early poop
Which is far superior 
Than this later poop
Of a quality that's inferior 

There's just something lacking
From this post noon sight
To give it that smacking 
Of an afternoon delight.

I'm not sure what, exactly 
But I know the best part of day
To be sitting here extracting
Is not in PM, I have to say.
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