On 36

Upon turning thirty six
I expected a mighty poo
But it wasn't in the mix
And why? I have no clue.

So thirty six and a day
Expecting something big
But no, barely a play
Really, just a little twig

Disappointed, I write
But not inspirationally  
This poop just isn't right
It's somewhat dumb, constipationally 

And yeah, that's not a word
I know
But hey, I'm a wordsmith, ya heard!
Hoe.

 

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