Tell The Tales of The Black Sheep

I’ll tell you a tale but do not be appalled it is not a mystery so there is nothing to

solve.

I do not strive to adorn my finger with glittering rock, nor do I wish to waltz

down the aisle to curtsy for my betroth therefore I disappoint my

birth givers.

My mind stubbornly ignores information from sources I deem useless to aid in

human survival consequently I leave a ghastly taste in the mouth of my

professor.

I am a very skilled bartender, but brutal honesty, harsh responses and a

personality made for a brute man was a tonic too strong for my mates to drink

and thus some left the party before the second round of shots.

Like a lion I devour whether sweet or sour, I am greedy with flesh as I leave no

crumbs for my kin to scrabble for, this has my lovers questioning my sense of

nurture.

A tango with a priest meant I would be less of a black sheep than the urchins in

the streets but what kind of sheep betrays the herd when the Shepard turns his back.

THE BITTER POET