A Dysfunctional Fur Ball
Born with an inner compulsion,
She will never be running free,
For she must be held away from dogs,
Lest she bite one on foot or knee.
Behind open blinds she barks at passing friends,
Yearning only to be liked for herself,
Then lies her fuzzy head upon her pillow,
Bewildered, depressed, on a canine shelf.
When love pets her belly, she kisses,
Kisses the food-smelling hand,
She loves all people, just wants to be,
Be free in the way that she sees they can.
The one who cares and holds her leash
Has vowed to take care of her,
For she keeps her from being lonely,
This dysfunctional sweet ball of fur.
Though long walks will never be hers,
For she attacks and is bent on running way,
She serves unknowingly in her own house,
Company to a lone one throughout the day.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2019
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