The edge of a plate is extremely thin With one false step you fall right in, Descending fast deep in the stew There is really nothing you can do. Except perhaps flail like a fly That simply has refused to die, Causing the patron with a sneer To call to waiter 'come over near’. I have an insect in my bowl Its causing quite the folderol, A finger then descends from high Propelling you to surface dry. The moral of this tale I tell I hope you will digest quite well, If you tumble in the stew Be sure to cause a hullabaloo. The slowly narrowing passage that professes to lead towards the light but in reality drives you ever deeper into vagary, that is the rabbit hole.