Charlie, Good Boy

Golden locks of beauty stained in unjust action, Drippage from the ceiling was a quencher of reaction. Rage as a utensil to spoon shovel personal training, But for what? To piss himself every single time it's raining? Knock around his organs when a voice speaks on love, Or if he's needing food or water, just give him a shove. When we brought him home to love him, he cowered, When we reached a hand to caress him, he stammered. Soaked the floors in fear and all he ever saw was blood, In our touch, in our actions, in our home, in our love. I suppose that's what they'd really hoped to train; That the world is a cold place full of hunger, rage, and pain. But Charlie, even though you didn't stay for a while, Please find love with others and forgiveness for their style. You're such a beautiful soul and I leave with this toy, And the words you long to hear, "Charlie, you're a good boy."