| Pagerank |
The following poem was sent to one of the sanctuaries.
A False Lead
| They used to call me wonderful |
| Well, that was just last week, |
| They used to give me meaty chunks, |
| And I would lick their cheek. |
The lead that they had bought for me |
| Said that I belong |
| And when I pulled it much too hard |
| It taught me right from wrong. |
For just two days I smelt the grass, |
| Those walks I did enjoy, |
| I never thought that I'd be exchanged |
| For just another toy. |
The cuddles I still long for, |
| Am I really bad? |
| At six weeks, in my zest for life |
| Should I be this sad? |
Now the door has shut on me, |
| The ground is cold and hard, |
| The shiver of my aching bones |
| I loathe this concrete yard. |
The blanket that I used to have |
| To sleep on after play |
| Must have gone in the bin |
| After Christmas day. |