How doth the bright Sir Amos man
Instruct us on BS,
And give us lines that rhyme and scan
To send a wise behest!

That we protect our innocents
From perils swift and sure—
The lure may smell like frankincense
But'll rot them to the core!

I'll make my teenage Benjamin
Improve himself instead
Of leaning near to MOM again.
I'll send him right to bed.

For he's too young for Intercourse
(Even Intercourse, PA),
And surely from addictions worse
Like MOABing all day.

So, thank you, Amos! I'll protect
My sons from MOAB's jaws
Until the day that they defect
And join the BS cause!