Sonnet

Just as modern as ancient, a dose of the gripes

Bowels like an open sewer, too slackened to close

Be it leaves, old newspaper or classic wipes

The focus dear reader is on the bottom’s prose

Days of flatulence, days of liquid conker brown

In this life of celebrity and instant pleasure

People are confused by my intensive frown

Throw in dazed self-esteem for good measure:

What greater fear than from these real doubts?

Whether my undies will be soiled or clear

For I am indeed famous for managing these bouts

Controlling my destiny, controlling my fear

  How it began is no longer a concern

  By seeking relief, I’ve got humility to learn.

 

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