Short Crapped Poems
Short Crapped Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Crapped by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Crapped by length and keyword.
The Old Man has never
walked on the Moon
but he has crapped his pants
and he has puked on his wife's shoes
but after drinking a bottle of whiskey
The Old Man killed it when he played the blues.
Release the hounds
Call out the guard
Some simple fool
Crapped in my yard
Oh woe is me
Oh heavy sigh
Look at this poo
Piled a mile high
No words will help
No song be sung
Just tell me now
Who flung the dung
Listen to poem:
Isn’t there just days you wished you had stayed in bed
I went to the shops, and a seagull crapped on my head
Everyone laughing saying you know it means good luck
Not quite what I thought, as trying to remove the muck
Yeah, Lordy, how I wished I had stayed in bed
Trumpty dumpty built his great wall
Trumpty dumpty crapped on us all
All of his felons and all their men
given a second term will betray us again.
She pointed her eyes at the photo
and squelched my hopes with just four words
"good luck with that"
I was planning on turning it into a masterpiece
but she made it look like I had just crapped on it
Too bad I didn't see her shade of green,
nor how she was so mean.
Chubby cheeks,
with red dumplings,
a chin having,
a deep adorable sink,
with wide blue eyes,
having a naughty twink,
his golden locks,
were soft,
and plenty,
his baby fragrance,
I used to inhale deep,
as in my lap,
he used to sleep,
its only when,
he stirred,
burped,
and crapped,
that his innocent helpless,
beauty,
in fact seeped.
I despair when I’ve stepped in dog poo
Excrement on the sole of my shoe
It would be indiscreet
If I crapped in the street
I wish doggies would use a pooch loo!
I mowed the grass but now feel forlorn
I see cat poo all over my lawn
My neighbour’s pussy
Is so darn fussy ...
It's just my lawn that he treats with scorn!
Here’s my whine now pass the Cheese Contest
Sponsored by Phillip Garcia
08~01~16
The dog barked ,
and its puppies yelped,
I was raised,
mulling my eyes,
I got out,
something was definitely wrong,
the winter bit in my bed clothes,
and crapped through legs deep in,
shaking my head,
to drop the drowse,
I began to look for my glasses,
and frantically browsed,
getting them on table,
I put them on,
and went to the door,
cranking it ajar,
I stepped to the kennel,
only to find,
that nothing was wrong,
the canine family,
simply needed more of flannel.
For fun we played a mind-game,
deciding to imagine a perfect dragon.
She put together a plump pink dragon
that blew rainbow bubbles
and smelled of minty chewing gum.
Mine was an iridescent cockatrice,
a spiny feathered serpent that vomited hydrogen Sulfide
coating all with the stench of rotting eggs.
“Ugh!” She cried!
Then I added
that already her dragon had been eaten by killer fairies.
“Pig, you crapped on my cute dragon!”
I may be sleeping on the couch tonight.