The Puppy

A sad eyed pup
Begs for a scrap.
The other dogs' owners
Will feed them on fat.
The poor pup is starved,
All skin and bones,
While other doggies
Have warm, comfy homes.
Our pup lacks this comfort,
safety and shelter,
From the storms, and the streets
and the helter-skelter.
Won't somebody, please,
Throw our pup a treat?
He's the saddest thing
You will ever meet.
Pup would be greatful
for a pat on the head.
Bring a light to his eye,
in his darkness and dread.
For each day is a struggle,
his life, like a curse.
And nothing gets better,
It only gets worse.
He's such a good pup,
doesn't bark or bite.
But now, no one loves him,
And he's given up the fight.
This poor li'l pup,
that nobody sees,
has reached his limit,
And bowed his knees.
He's humbled to you
And just wants to be seen,
To know that he's real.
Please don't be so mean!
Acknowledge the Puppy!
Don't ignore his whine.
He's alive on this planet,
Been here all the time.
But we've all blown him off
Yet patient, he waits.
Man's very best friend,
there is no debate.
A bit of a doormat,
but he doesn't mind.
If he plays his cards right,
You just might be kind.

©July 22, 2002. All Rights Reserved.