Aristocroc Poem by Mary Champion

They christened me, Christopher -
of the family, Lacoste.
My pedigree's long,
though the record's been lost.
I'm awfully refined
and I'm terribly kind,
so I never would dream
of making you scream.
My teeth aren't discrete,
but my smile is so sweet,
I know you'll be charmed,
please don't be alarmed.

I'm quite cultured y'know,
I write poems and go
to the opera house
with the upper-class crowds,
attend erudite things
with dukes, earls and kings.

I'm literate, liberal - a wine connoisseur
not to mention the fact, I'm a trés bon viveur.
Elegant, stylish - please note my attire-
but not dressed to kill, such is not my desire.

Yet, for all I'm so nice,
that doesn't suffice,
for those whose main aim
is to murder and maim.
They're all so obsessed
to see me undressed.
It's my skin that they choose
to make handbags and shoes.
 
But still all your fears,
these aren't crocodile tears
that I shed when I'm seen
as a monster obscene.

Please believe me that all of your fears are misplaced,
an avian diet is not to my taste.
I'm pacific and gentle, my nature is sweet.
I'm a vegan you see, so I never touch meat.