Up here in Boogerville,
There’s a great thrill
Of going downhill
To get one’s fill
Of the fresh air pill.

It’s something of a rite,
This sacred journey to the light,
Which all boogers, age right,
Must one day take a bite.

But the passage isn’t slight:
A hairy forest of no delight
Stands tight, tight on site
All down the nasal flight;
So slime as you might,
It’s still quite the plight.

But there’s something worse I must cite
Regarding this journey towards the light:
Something full of spite,
That will make you all affright,
Then turn you deathly white;
So listen to me, alright,
Or else you’ll be in serious shite!

There’s a fleshy serpent, ‘ight,
Prowling near the nasal flight,
Always looking to PICK a fight,
Hunting both day and night
With ceaseless appetite,
Staying out of sight,
Before ambushing like dynamite;
Biting and scratching ’til its grip is tight,
The serpent then yanks boogers outright
Into eternal night.

Once when I strayed too close to the light,
The serpent came after me with excite:
It clawed and gripped me tight,
Then tried to tug me out – the parasite!
But I held fast with all my mucous might
To every hairy branch in sight,
Then mustered all my booger fight
To squirm out from its deathly bite
And trace back up the nasal flight
To Boogerville’s safe height.

So this I recite
To you, my young booger sprites:
Don’t venture too close to the li —


Ahhh, we’re all going to die!!!!! 

We’ll have to take a break from writing here at Brainflora to go wash our hands. Fortunately, God blessed us, so we already have another nourishing idea ready. If you like to pick your nose though, you’re not going to like Don’t Botch: You’re Under Watch.