Poetry
There once was a man named Lot,
The angels said git and he got,
He grabbed his poor wife
And they ran for their life
Till his wife turned and froze on the spot.
All the way home Lot did muse
How his in-laws would take the news,
For the one they gave birth
Was now salt of the earth
Just perfect with soups and stews.
Lot struggled to emotionally accept her
But decided it was best he kept her,
While he set up his house
She proved quiet as a mouse
Perched between the cinnamon and pepper.
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I admit that it was rather witty
But it wasn't his fault
That his wife became salt
We should look upon Lot with more pity