I like to write poop notes

Well my ass is planted deep into the seat, my hands are lingering lonely by my side. My muscles at work pushing, pushing so hard the stools of my previous meals. I begin to ponder, and later feel bad I am simply flushing these vestiges of my survival to a land without purpose. So I bring a pen in the washroom now and write on the toilet paper as I continue to push. I thank them for the energy they've past provided me. I remember fondly of the sweet aromas they use to be. And I sign a sweet passage of remembrance with the meal I ate with it. Stand off my mighty throne, come to full attention, flush, and salute. Farewell my mighty soldiers.