My Dog
The dog runs through the grass,
Chasing,
Pursuing,
Hoping to catch what was thrown.
In triumph, it catches the object,
Chomping down victoriously.
Suddenly, its brows furrow,
And spits out its spoils.
Questioningly, it looks at you,
Wondering why you threw a lemon.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
