Ostri-Sized
People call me ugly,
And other hurtful names,
I'm often ostri-sized,
My feathers used for games.
They say the Ugly-Duckling
Grew up to be a swan,
And though I'm still but very young,
They ask me What went wrong?
I'm left here on my own-some;
And feel so sad and blue,
Well, you would feel the same
If you were an ... emu.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.