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This one goes out to the ones who know what I mean The ones who sit on the pooper, let go of nothing but a scream A holler, a yell, a desperate cry, must be a dream A **** me, why can’t I, send one floating down the stream The ones who have seen their self esteem Boil down to a terrifying extreme I pooped today, we say Just kidding, haven’t done so in 3 or 4 days And we wait and we wait for it to pass past our way But the train is a freight, blocking our path through the gates This clogging I have deep inside my ******** Is a constant pain and urge, a persistent struggle A puzzle really, a puzzle it is to my mind How much prune juice must I guzzle until I can **** this time? The toilet paper waits to wipe off my *** The pebbles and streaks after the log runs Don’t cover your eyes or ears, ladies, we all know that you do You can’t hide from the truth, no perfect angel praying in pews Although the fees of the males will claim they never poo Everyone knows you all drop some gnarly doo doos And that, too, some food for thought, to bite off and chew Swallow your pride, give a big ol’ high five, when you release a number 2 And back to my problems, you know, how I can’t drop a **** Paul Revere can even say, this one, he’s already heard And the hurt that I flirt with, the coming close to victory All but escapes me, sitting to **** flowing just a *** It ***** I will say, I will say that for sure If I may, I will pay it, I will pay to no longer endure This feeling inside me, the prolonged clenching of the cheeks I tell of this issue from a heart wrenching, a remember when we **** Every day of the week
0
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
Constipated: Birth to 11
This one goes out to the ones who know what I mean The ones who sit on the pooper, let go of nothing but a scream A holler, a yell, a desperate cry, must be a dream A **** me, why can’t I, send one floating down the stream The ones who have seen their self esteem Boil down to a terrifying extreme I pooped today, we say Just kidding, haven’t done so in 3 or 4 days And we wait and we wait for it to pass past our way But the train is a freight, blocking our path through the gates This clogging I have deep inside my ******** Is a constant pain and urge, a persistent struggle A puzzle really, a puzzle it is to my mind How much prune juice must I guzzle until I can **** this time? The toilet paper waits to wipe off my *** The pebbles and streaks after the log runs Don’t cover your eyes or ears, ladies, we all know that you do You can’t hide from the truth, no perfect angel praying in pews Although the fees of the males will claim they never poo Everyone knows you all drop some gnarly doo doos And that, too, some food for thought, to bite off and chew Swallow your pride, give a big ol’ high five, when you release a number 2 And back to my problems, you know, how I can’t drop a **** Paul Revere can even say, this one, he’s already heard And the hurt that I flirt with, the coming close to victory All but escapes me, sitting to **** flowing just a *** It ***** I will say, I will say that for sure If I may, I will pay it, I will pay to no longer endure This feeling inside me, the prolonged clenching of the cheeks I tell of this issue from a heart wrenching, a remember when we **** Every day of the week
rkairis2
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
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