deepundergroundpoetry.com

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 it’s dark
No harm is meant but yet they run
I’m ostracized by everyone
 
My fetid smell keeps them away      
Though rarely do I ever spray
There’s not a chance of making friends    
It’s 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
They’re quite a few that clearly stunk      
But all could be considered junk
 
So talentless at what I do
A failure’s 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 isn’t fair
Misunderstood and though I try
I can’t 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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