I’m a gentle giraffe, who lives in a zoo <br />But I don’t seem the same as the others all do. <br />When I was born, did they make a bungle <br />Which means that I’m not like my kin of the jungle? <br />My brothers all shun me, like I’ve a disease, <br />Since I’m not very tall and I can’t reach the trees. <br />But there’s some sort of pride in the way that I’m dressed: <br />I haven’t got spots on my fur, like the rest; <br />I’m sure they look down on me, with high, haughty scowls <br />But I’ll counter back with some gruff, grudging growls <br />So they’ll cotton on, as I’m raging and roaring <br />That I’m not a creature they should be ignoring, <br />For my teeth are more sharp than the rest of the bunch <br />And I like to eat meat and not leaves for my lunch. <br />Another strange feature I’d like to explain <br />Is my neck is all covered in hair, in the main; <br />It’s always been like it, since I was a cub <br />But is that a reason to give me a snub? <br />I think I’ll break off and stop for a pause <br />To think up another short, sharp, clever clause <br />About my appearance, which is quite a tale <br />Which I lash in anger, but I’m sure that I fail <br />To describe myself fully, although I’ve been trying. <br />Do you think that, possibly, I could be lion?<br /><br />C Richard Miles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-giraffe-who-might-be-lying/
