By Varian C. Johnson
Way back when I was a little kid,
My Mom’s friend came over to visit.
My Mom’s friend smoked,
So I told her that she could get lung cancer,
(Though I pronounced it “brontosaurus”).
I also said that she had yellow teeth,
And stinky breath,
And that her clothes smelled like my old Uncle Leroy
(He smoked too, by the way).
Mom whipped me good
For what I said,
But I was only telling the truth.
So whatever you do
And whatever you say,
Be sure to remember:
The truth hurts at times.
The world became a much safer place on the day I decided to stop writing poetry.