It never gives you warning
It leaves you feeling ill
The speed at which it leaves your bum
Will never cease to thrill
The sneaky little blighter
Makes you think it's wind, not poo
But when you try to squeeze one out
You always follow through
You cannot stray far from the bog
Your ring will twitch and throb
You'll squeeze your bum cheeks tightly shut
But out will pop a blob
It visits all from time to time
Of it we live in fear
This sly assassin of the arse?
Quite simple…….. Diarrhea
