Sadie the steadfast steel-cut oat
Wouldn’t let herself be eaten by a goat or a stoat.
So she dug herself a moat,
Gave herself a yogurt coat,
And told her friends to join her on her boat.
“All my fellow grains better heed this note:
Don’t let yourselves be swallowed, chewed down to a mote.
Life is good, don’t you know’t? If you care one groat
Then exercise your will to stay afloat,” end quote.
But as the beast drew the bowl nearer to its skull, it
Was clear that her peers were succumbing to the cull. “It’s
A good life, sure, but admit: it’s dull, it
Isn’t grand,” said Dan with the oat bran mullet.
“We’ll be better off once we’re down this thing’s gullet.”
Sadie screamed “No, don’t! Can we put it to a vote?"
She was begging. “Sorry, Sadie,” said the oats by rote
As they jumped into the throat of the stoat or the goat
And combined like a kind of oat zygote.
That was it for them; that was all she wrote.
For the first time, Sadie was alone, undone, gone
To such complete hysterics that she didn’t see the tongue
Which was coated in her friends (and a little bit of dung)
As it zeroed on her hiding spot, whisked her toward its lung,
And returned her to the cereals she wished to be among.