deepundergroundpoetry.com
These May Be Some Uncomfortable Topics for You
Have you ever experienced that if in a funny way you sit;
It just makes you have to shit?
Have you ever noticed that when you crouch,
It makes the poop in your body go down south?
Have you ever wondered about the things in your intestines;
That make you want to ask many questions?
I hope that objects haven't been threatened to be put in your rectums,
That make you need to feel the need to protect 'em.
You poor men that must go to the proctologists;
But, then again, we women have to go to the gynocologist!
It's all quite an uncomfortable feeling;
When we must expose our privates and stare at the ceiling.
For, we don't want to look into our doctors' eyes;
For, we may see in them a state of surprise.
Sometimes, you know you don't want to hear the truth;
Of the disease you contracted while you were in the phone booth.
Sometimes you don't want to know with what you are dealing;
When you were just trying to create an orgasm by kneeling.
Sometimes you don't want to know that you got sick;
From sucking on your loved one's dick.
Sometimes you don't want to know how your mouth got a red splotch,
After you had just had it all over your woman's crotch.
But, sometimes doctor's need to know the truth,
About, how when you were in your favorite sexual position, you broke your tooth.
Sometimes you don't want the doctors to know that when you were rockin' the bed like Elvis,
That you ended up cracking your pelvis.
Sometimes, you'd rather your body be a medical mystery,
So that you can hide better your sexual history.
It's too bad, sometimes, that the truth comes out when your drunk;
You make your man feel as filthy as a skunk.
I haven't done all of these things I did mention;
But, I hope it was enough to get your attention!
It just makes you have to shit?
Have you ever noticed that when you crouch,
It makes the poop in your body go down south?
Have you ever wondered about the things in your intestines;
That make you want to ask many questions?
I hope that objects haven't been threatened to be put in your rectums,
That make you need to feel the need to protect 'em.
You poor men that must go to the proctologists;
But, then again, we women have to go to the gynocologist!
It's all quite an uncomfortable feeling;
When we must expose our privates and stare at the ceiling.
For, we don't want to look into our doctors' eyes;
For, we may see in them a state of surprise.
Sometimes, you know you don't want to hear the truth;
Of the disease you contracted while you were in the phone booth.
Sometimes you don't want to know with what you are dealing;
When you were just trying to create an orgasm by kneeling.
Sometimes you don't want to know that you got sick;
From sucking on your loved one's dick.
Sometimes you don't want to know how your mouth got a red splotch,
After you had just had it all over your woman's crotch.
But, sometimes doctor's need to know the truth,
About, how when you were in your favorite sexual position, you broke your tooth.
Sometimes you don't want the doctors to know that when you were rockin' the bed like Elvis,
That you ended up cracking your pelvis.
Sometimes, you'd rather your body be a medical mystery,
So that you can hide better your sexual history.
It's too bad, sometimes, that the truth comes out when your drunk;
You make your man feel as filthy as a skunk.
I haven't done all of these things I did mention;
But, I hope it was enough to get your attention!
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