+++++++++TRACKS+++++++++++

We all got em’, but do we admit?

Our mom’s know of all of it,

Both male & female, we may not be proud,

Both of us, man and woman,

Try not to shout it out loud,

Yes, you know of what I speak,

Those brown marks on white sheets too,

Give it away still,

They are the marks on your undies,

Made from that of your own shit…

Oh my, did he say that word?

Goodness me, why did he just not say turd?

Cause it did not rhyme up above,

Like it does here, don’t ya’ just, it, love?

I was inspired & thusly dedicated this poem,

To a man I admire as much as I do turds,

He knows, my sense of humor here, is nothing if not absurd…

So, keep your track marks to yourself,

Don’t let the little laundry elves,

See what you got in your undies so brown,

Or let others standing next to you,

Smell what you have in your pants, keep movin’ round…

              © ed – 2/29/04