There was a man called Wee Willie Winkie
Whos manhood was too small to see
The doc gave him a talc to whiff
And his tiny man grew so stiff
It now dangled down to his knee
His dangly thing now ached like hell
As his trouser-snake continued to swell
The sly looks he received
He couldn't believe
And he didn't know who else to tell
Poor Willie looked for some sort of cure
For the pain was too much to endure
He stuck it with ice
Pricked with some rice
But the boner didn't lose its lure
Now he had a three footer stick
His pain wouldn't let him think
Putting it in a sock
He rushed to the doc
Who said you better visit a shrink
The shrink let out a deep, throaty sigh
You must tightly strap up this little guy
Cause if you get aroused
In a large gathered crowd
You might poke someone in the eye
One fine sunny morning on his porch he sat
Having a sunbath with his pussy cat
His nephew called from the hall
Uncle we want to play baseball!
Can we use your stick as our playing bat?
The game was a jolly but tiring affair
He sat down to check the wear and tear
And it grew a pint again
Sending a buzz of pleasury pain
As he tried hard to keep it in his underwear
Willie came up with another thought
Why not try an electric shock
He pulled out the TV pin
And plugged his dingle in
Hoping it would make it short
Nothing worked, no matter how hard he tried
Hoping this protrusion would somehow subside
As a last saving ditch
He visited a cougar witch
Who said "Oh, what a sweet, stiffy, ride"
She made him lay still on the pig-skinned couch
As she heated a couldron with stuff from her pouch
Then she climbed on his erection
Without any kind of protection
And asked, should I cut it off with a gouge?
Willie needed another plan of action
Could a mathematician do some subtraction
Maybe a division,
Without an incision,
To leave him with a moderate fraction
Willie had run out of most thoughts
Till he came up with a last resort
He hoped an obstetrician
Could induce a contraction
To deattach this ever-increasing wart
The surgery was a grave unsuccess
Leaving him with an even bigger mess
Finally giving up the feat
Making it a benefit
He gave his stiffy a long caress
Pool was the game he liked to own
All others would leave him alone
He'd just pull down his zip
Get a firm, tight, grip
And ram a ball or two striking home
When all was finally said and done
And the game was played and won
He cleaned up and dusted
His rod nearly busted
And pushed back inside, his pilligun
There was a pandora of woman there
At Willie's winkie they seemed to stare
But he got no worry
Cause he had no hurry
For his weenie was always ready to play
Then days went by and he grew old
His balls shrivelled up, making it fold
Then he felt a tingle
At the end of his dingle
And that started a deadly head-cold
Poor little winkie sniffled away
Having a really terrible day
He started to drip
From the end of his tip
On the moonlit night of a sunny May
When he woke up to daylight
His stick was no longer in sight
And that was the end
Of a dear friend
And the source of Winkie's plight
