The Lonely Puppy


The lonely puppy plops down on his bed,
no rub on the tummy no pat on the head.
His fur a desolate, calm shade of black,
a dark creeping stripe trots down his back.
No food, no water, he’s been left all alone,
his house more a prison, only rarely a home.
The bright golden puppy’s rest calmy in sleep,
While the dark lonely puppy’s fears start to creep.

The radiant dogs live up in sky,
while he’s banished underground; damp, cold and dry.
His stomach fights a war that he can’t seem to win,
his hunger never filled, on his face not a grin.
Each and every day he fights through the night,
he’d be given more love if his fur was more bright.
He stays up wondering why the world’s so unfair,
Why he’s treated with hate but never with care.

The rattling of food looms shyly above,
The taste of the rats he never did love.
Where were his treats, where were his friends,
why did his torment seem never to end.
How many more years will no help swiftly arrive,
They all shame him when he’s just trying to survive.
When will the world stop being so cruel,
when will the puppy feel less like a fool.

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