A Cautionary Tale

 
A wayward youth went slumming
In a dark, foreboding land,
Where evil winked at passersby,
Yet incurred no reprimand.

He came upon a barren road,
Upon which stood a sign,
Reading, “Trod me not, if ye be a fool.
All others will be just fine.”

The youth eyed the sign suspiciously
(It was painted day-glow coral).
“It looks like this,” the delinquent mused,
“Is a story with a moral.”

A one-eyed owl called to him
From a black and baleful tree.
“I’d go no further,” the owl moaned,
“Stranger, if I were thee.”

Out of nowhere sprang a ragged waif
Who rebuked the gloomy owl,
Crying, “Sally forth, brave stranger!
Pray, ignore yon wretched fowl!”

“OK!” said the youth, with a jaundiced eye.
“This here’s some peculiar shit!
And I’m sure when all is said and done,
I’ll be the one left sucking hind tit.”

Turning back toward whence he’d come,
He said, “Sorry, I’m not the one.”
As he walked away, he heard the owl say,
“Go on, bitch! You're no fun!”