|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
I'm an old bad dog
barking at the rain I know the rain will fall but I don't quite get why it has to fall again and again I'm all wet and I'm mostly getting wetter My other friends are out here too and we're soaked through its not getting any better A dog can only stand so much living under such conditions There's a growing group of us neglected much while the masters sit inside calm and comfortable Out here there's no shelter in which to seek comfort no place to hide I'm a bad dog, a mad dog, a cur, a sort of undesirable one I must sit outside suffer otherness I feel like an unchosen one Whatever the weather we dogs slog through it all With only our coats on waiting for a pat, those seeing eyes a certain kind of noticing a certain kid of tone and for you to put away your phone I'm a bad dog, a nearly mad dog relegated to and tugging at my leash This rope keeps me segregated from and separated from those people and places I'd rather reach The man is safe inside attending to his important need now I even wear a muzzle so my anxious barking doesn't impede his leisure his pleasure so I'm a good dog not a dog in need Still the rain is falling down and we dogs get very wet I'm told I'm a good dog while I wait but what good do I get this is not how you treat someone I don't feel like man's best friend Man could take a fine lesson from a dog about what a real best friend is... like how we're always happy to see one another how we greet each other with a bark and with a wide smile how the first thing we do is to play and run around and eventually we all feel better in a short while Can I sum it all up for you and not do the supposing and second guessing you human creatures do and act so self-assured of your rightness and asserting how you are so pithy-wise... how you claim how well you see things but we dogs have better eyes let me break it down put it into human language you might understand Why don't you try out being a dog sit out in the rain without barking or complaining or feeling neglected and alone while all we dogs go inside and do our business just like the man April 28 2018/ 12:28PM PST time date stamped legal copyright for this poem/rant/work and also for this writer/author/poet Melissa A Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World This poem is exactly what you think its about but not quite exactly...I am giving you, the reader plenty of food for thought. Why would anyone want to be treated like a dog, when a dog can be treated like this? Vote for this poem |
|