If Skunks Could Cry

Pariah dressed in black and white † †  
Hides in the day and basks at night
Good for nothing except to scare
And raise my tail to foul the air
Like a leper I am eschewed † † † † † † † †
As I travel and look for food
Panic stricken at what they see
The whole world hates the sight of me
I ruin picnics in the park † † † † † † †
If I come out before itís dark
No harm is meant but yet they run
Iím ostracized by everyone
My fetid smell keeps them away † † †
Though rarely do I ever spray
Thereís not a chance of making friends † †
Itís lonesomeness that never ends
I live alone deep underground † † † † †
Where poetry is all around
And readers know to hold their nose † †
Rejection is the way it goes
I always know just what to think † † † †  
Of poems I write that really stink
Theyíre quite a few that clearly stunk † † †
But all could be considered junk
So talentless at what I do
A failureís stench is nothing new
I am the face of all bad news
An identity I did not choose
My reputation is hard to bear
A life with stripes just isnít fair
Misunderstood and though I try
I canít find a way for skunks to cry
Written by Mourningcloak
Published | Edited 27th Oct 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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