Don't bee foolish

“Bee true! Bee true!” Beetrice beeseached,
but Friz Bee would not stay.
“The world is mine, I intend to dine
In a snobbee French cafe.”

So, off he went, the world to roam
with never a thought to bee kind
to the heart at home, to the one alone,
and the beeautiful ties that bind.

He sailed on air like pillow’s down,
he beehaved in a beemish way.
“Life is a freebee,” He told a bop-babee.
“And I plan to take what I may.”

He boozed, bellowed, and beebopped about.
A beehemoth, beestie, or worse.
Still his friends were many,
and shared every penny,
‘til he dropped the last coin from his purse.

When booze, song, and money were gone,
Friz Bee’s friends beemocked
his poor state.
“Beegone you cad, you’re beesottenly bad.”
they said, and then left him to fate.

With thoughts turned to the one beetrayed,
and determined to now beeware,
he tried to fly to his home to cry,
but he couldn’t afford the fare.

“I’ll hoof it,” he said as he started the trek.
“I must return and bee true.
If the Bee Lines won’t do I’ll take to the shoe.
Whatever the cost, I’ll get through.”

To tell you the story of the miles he walked,
of the adventures, beefoul, and beenign,
would bee long to tell, and I know very well,
we simply haven’t the time.

So just let me say, Friz ‘d bee here today,
if his heart had been a lot wiser.
But during his walk, he beelieved the talk,
and fell under the spell, of a spider.