One of my gifts

Is best served cold

 

If you inhale my gift

Your brain will freeze

 

If you let it linger

It will melt

 

Sticking to everything

While attracting flies

 

If you use the wooden stick

Provided to you

You will receive splinters

 

If you use a spoon

I pray your tongue freezes to it

 

I can dish out 3 scoops

Of rocky road

 

Before you even realized that

You got served

 

I am like a diabetic entrepreneur

Ice cream truck driver

 

Only a single taste

Of my own medicine

 

Leaves my decayed teeth trembling

And frozen in my Moose Tracks

 

 

The moral being…

 

Before you could dish it out

It must have been forced down your throat.