The Old Empty Outhouse

Along the rugged plains of a time from the past,

Sat a throne of honor, that just didn’t last.

For many it taught them how to read,

Until the original goal would finally succeed.

There were lots of deposits, and many visits made,

Through the cold of winter and summers shade.

The moon slit shape in the side filled the space

But its memory we can never replace.

using solar energy by day, and moonlight by night,

The pathway was clear and within our sight.

For the smell would make the trip ever so short

Its purpose remained as an outer place to hide.

So when you feel nature’s call, don’t be in a rush,

even though the memory seems gone in a flush.

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