I had a nightmare about mobsters.
They had whiskers and claws – they were lobsters.
I was tied to a chair, and their pincers,
They pinched, and they laughed at my winces.
And they said in their strange lobster voices:
“Be a man – you have plenty of choices.
Don’t be weak – this is pretty mild torture.
Just remember what Peterson taught ya:
Life is hard, but be brave as you suffer;
You’ll emerge quite considerably tougher.”
I awoke in my bed safe and sound,
And no lobsters were there to be found.
It was like I’d escaped from the tomb.
I proceeded to clean up my room.