The Prick! Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

They come on bushes rosy red.
And on some trees, even I have bled.
At times you find them while pulling weeds.
And they also come on the hind of bees!

These thorny friends of the rattlesnake.
They stab and jab at the least mistake.
And even if you should wear a glove,
You will still get cut in the midst of love.

The needled spikes of the porcupine,
And poisoned ones on a jungle vine,
Are put there some life to protect.
You’d better not touch them at all by heck!

Always remember if you're in the sun,
If one walks toward you then turn and run.
If you don’t I am sure that you will find,
These are the pricks of the worst kind.