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What’s that I hear?

Under my shirt?

That rumbling voice,

Is starting to hurt.


It speaks in tremors,

it speaks to me until

I think this thing in my gut,

Has its own free will.


Its grumbling groans,

Its mournful moans,

It rumbles in zones,

that rattles my bones


So what must I do?

To council this foe?

And sooth my belly through,

This time of woe.


I will give it time,

And allow it send,

Me sweetly off to sleep,

And rejoin me again, as my bodily friend.

Created: Mar 22, 2012

Tags: independent poetry, poem, poems, funny poem

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