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Oct 2017
*******br>Why does it make us stupid, huh
I wish it was a formula
But nothing’s free
Most of the guys will agree with me
Y’all will say it’s a unicorn
Y’all will say it heals
The way that I feel
It’s difficult to conceal
It’s also a meal.

*******br>It confounds us, huh
Also called the puh
And called many names
I love it when y’all hide it behind your Hanes
Your Way
Was that too cliche?
I’ll stop
Hypnotize me while that puh pop
Make that thing drop
Ooh, she freaky
She can’t be stopped

*******br>What it feel like
I don’t know
I just seen a glimpse
Of a girl’s bush
That made me go limp
It **** sure wasn’t presidential
She thought her Puh was transcendental
Please
More like it should be confidential
She was a **
And she knew it
And that was the moment that I realized
*******br>Was a formula:
Wait until you’re ready for that curricula
A poem about the most confounding thing in the anatomy.
Tristan Taylor
Written by
Tristan Taylor  31/M/Houston, Texas
(31/M/Houston, Texas)   
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