A Nursery Rhyme For Us Matture Children Poem by soren Barrett

A Nursery Rhyme For Us Matture Children

I sit upon the thrown, over all the shit I own
at my side an official paper, to clean up this caper
I'm not in any rush in my left hand a royal flush
Old king Cole sitting on his bowl
with fingers free let me fiddle with my diddle, then pee

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