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George denied it, of course
A merry fellow him, he said, though he seldom did smile
He blamed it on his horoscope
By which he meant his natal chart, not the daily prediction
From the day he read that it was a slippery slope
Worse than the shower when you drop the soap
Everyone met he examined minutely
Everyone an envelope beneath his microscope
Everyone encountered with a modicum of hope
That they’d give him no reason to mope
But at heart, his nature couldn’t be changed
He didn’t like the people around him
He was indeed a misanthrope
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Misanthrope in 99 words
crispina kemp 
Good take on the prompt!
We all know one, don’t we?
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Thanks, Dale. We do indeed.
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Another fine riposte.
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I thank you 🙂
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😊
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😄 Oh c’mon! Enough smiling, evenly friendly, misanthropes abound – she said pointing to herself! 😋
I kid and I absolutely love your take on the prompt! 🙂
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Thank you. I’m a bit of a misanthrope myself… at times
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Yeah…i get it!
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🙂
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