His life as an onion, was sad, insipid &
vapid,
Without salt & pepper, it was tasteless
& sapid,
He hid from entire world, within skin cold &
pale,
Protected from life´s barbs, of stone &
sharp nails,
Humanity´s cruelty, made him cringe, bow &
despise,
And when shedding his shell, brought tears to
the eyes,
He wept acrid brined teardrops, with first cut
& each slice,
And nobody knew him, yet they all deemed him
“not nice”.
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