Beware, good friend, the feathered fowl,
Whose beak is sharp, whose gaze is foul.
A bird so fair with plumes aglow,
Yet hidden depths none dare to know.

In shadowed night, it takes its stance,
Upon one leg, as in a trance.
A solemn figure, pink and tall,
With eyes that pierce through one and all.

Oh, foolish heart, why draw thee near?
This is no creature meek or dear.
A hypnotist, its gaze like glass,
It watches each poor soul that pass.