Frrrrrrrt

Frrrrt, frrrt, frrrt, ohhhhhhhhhh
        here it comes, don't let go,
trying to hold it back, hold it in, 
 the sphincter always seems to win;
if there is no resounding blast
        the odor surely lasts,
it wasn't me, no, not I
 someone else just walked on by.




Chantelle Cooke's Fart-tastic contest 9/19/21
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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