While camping on safari
 In the heyday of my youth,
I vividly recall the day
 I learned a fearsome truth

Although it is a luxury
 For human beings widespread,
The jungle has a different take
 On breakfast served in bed.

I woke up in the sleeping bag
 Within my tented space
To feel a swarm of tsetse flies
 Devouring my face.

With a yelp, I grabbed my hat
 And swatted every fly
Which captured the attention
 Of a leopard passing by.

Trapped inside my zippered bag-
 A canvas feeding trough!
Thank goodness that old lion roared
 And scared the leopard off.

Still in my bag, I rolled outside
 Into the vast unknown
Where two hyenas stopped to laugh
 And claim me as their own.

With no intention to become
 The pair's side-splitting feast,
I rolled to hide beside the stream
 Among the wildebeest.

A crocodile in the mud
 Made eating me his goal
And tore away my sleeping bag
 With one colossal roll.

Free at last, I sprinted back
 With all I could exert,
Avoiding vultures at my heels
 Who swooped in for dessert.

I hope this story helps inspire
 A different point of view-
If you're served breakfast in your bed,
 Be glad it isn't you!