Scorpion

There’s a tale of a frog
who was sunning herself
on a river’s soft bank
in the woods.

She was humbly approached
by a scorpion lad.
“Lady frog!” hailed the one
with the sting.

“I’ve got business, my dear,
on the opposite shore.
Could you possibly
give me a lift?”

So the affable frog
(who was kind to a fault)
said, “Hop on, little friend,
let’s be off!”

The arachnid complied,
and the innocent frog
set off swimming toward
the far bank.

As they reached the midpoint
up went scorpion’s sting,
and then down again,
into the froggy.

“Why, oh why did you sting?”
wept and wailed the poor frog
“Now we’ll both surely die!
Why’d you do it?”

“There was no way that I
could inhibit myself!”
said the scorpion boy.
“It’s my nature!”

Now, this story is told
metaphorically
to advise on the essence
of humans.

And yet, rare is the man
who is scorpion-born.
Rather, men must be taught
to betray.

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