What is it like to reek of a skunk
To be the object of people's disgust
To have people see only squalid and rust
They slink away thinking you're boorish and drunk
Don't want to get close
They steer clear of your aim
Hurting your feelings it isn't a game
Smiling politely while sending you shame
In the end treat you like unworthy junk
They think it's deserved
You asked for their spit
For bringing your stench and taking a sit
You starting this war by talking your shit
Now go away quickly before you are sunk
Once in your presence they need a deep cleanse
For what you just uttered means you can't be friends
Your pungent odor it strictly offends
Isolated is solace when you reek of a skunk.
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