Once a Pet
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The wild dog had once been a pet so sweet,
but death came- and he was now on the street;
he wandered alone, hungry, and confused,
never had this dog ever been abused.
Now, people kicked him until he was bruised,
he soon became feral- so he could eat.
He slept in doorways and sometimes on grass,
on the soft grass- he watched the people pass;
one dark, dark night he met dogs in a gang,
and from then on with the gang- he did hang.
On the city streets they barked loud and sang,
then, one night he got cut with broken glass.
He was bleeding badly and feeling weak,
going to the park- the soft grass to seek;
a girl wanted to help 'cause he was hurt,
she thought him handsome although full of dirt.
Coming close she offered him- her dessert,
sitting beside him she began to speak.
He growled a savage growl showing his teeth,
but the girl could see the good dog beneath;
she reached out to touch his wound and he cried,
without fear she picked him up - and he sighed.
She hugs him and tells how he almost died,
he snuggles close- his new toys underneath.
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August 5, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Once A Pet
Copyright Protected, ID -18-1049-780-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Feral
sponsor, Anthony Slausen
Eighth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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