Another POEm.

Based on "Bells".

See my little, fuzzy balls-
Hairy balls!
How I like to play with them whenever the urge calls!
How I tickle, tickle, tickle,
First my left one then my right!
‘Till my precum starts to trickle
I like both, I am not fickle
Oh, it gives me such delight;
Then I stroke, stroke, stroke,
As my chicken I do choke,
I continue masturbation ‘till come shoots like waterfalls
From my balls, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls-
From the hairy little sac that holds my balls.


See the old man’s saggy balls
Droopy balls!
Hanging almost to his knees as he walks throughout the halls
For they’re shriveled and they’re dry
How they make him want to cry!
And no more do they produce
Any warm and creamy juice
And he knows he can no longer reproduce.
Not the phone sex lines he calls
Nor a room of blow up dolls
Help at all.
Hear him bawl.
With the coming of nightfall
To his empty bed he’ll crawl
He’ll be mourning until morning,
For his balls, balls, balls, balls
Balls, balls, balls-
For his sagging and his dragging aged balls.

Ok, screw it. There are not enough words that rhyme with "balls" to continue this and the verses just get longer.