(This is a fictional poem)
When it comes to choosing roads to drive on, my cousin always makes the wrong selections.
He gets lost and he's a man so you know he doesn't ask for directions.
He got lost in a town that's full of prostitutes and pimps.
He got out of there as fast as he could because he's a wimp.
Last week he got lost in a town that's full of hillbillies.
He accidentally smashed into somebody's trailer and they slapped him silly.
If you're like my cousin, don't drive a car.
You'll be better off staying where you are.
Randy Johnson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lost-174/
