The Pervert Mole

A moley poem

I once poked a mole, right in the eye
It really hurt him and he started to cry
I said I was sorry but he was very rude
He told me to strip and stand in the nude
Well I was taken aback by this strange request
But I dropped my pants and took off my vest
I always thought moles had very poor sight
But this little fella, well he could see alright
He made me dance and sing lots of songs
What he was doing was blatantly wrong
I was cold and naked and lost in the woods
And this bastard mole was staring right at my goods
"Can I touch it," he said
"Fuck off," I replied
And I stood on his toes and poked the other eye
I ran for the exit holding my sack
I felt exposed and sick and didn't look back
A strange story to tell, told with heart and soul
My brief encounter with the pervert mole.