poem. C4C. Enjoy

It walks upright
Uncommon for a quadriped
Long, unruly and tangled hair blossoms forth in curls
Sprouts upward and every which way
What a disarray
And some must surely ask, "who is this creature?"

It walks with a tottering gait
Elbows locked
Head titled left, accentuating
Lips parted sensually

Bobbing and weaving its way
Nearly too tall to hit the door jam(
Is this a man?
Afraid they ask, "What is this creature?"

It's a tale of a monster
He just wants some friends
But he was killed
For being different than the other men

And from his grave flowers burst forth
Surely this is no man
This must be a creature
Mother would never give such beauty to a heartless human

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