Pride and Poo

Easing out to my surprise 
This waste born of sickness 
Has no end I surmise 
Of pushing out its thickness.

Of what food did I consume 
To make it such a size?
Something undigested I presume 
To land this toilet such a prize.

But maybe it was but what I ate
Days before the plague 
Stockpiled and simmering, lying in wait
To be born unholy, an evil poo egg.
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