Am from the backseats of mean streets
I got my eye aiming the Wall Street
They said education is the key
I wonder why they made it expensive for we,
Am sitting around hood rats,
Gangsters and Ex- prisoners
Sniffing, snatching, stuffing stuff
Mama expects a lawyer, a doctor, a mayor,
We are in the middle of a crisis
Am the original copy of a son-of-a-gun
I define the odds
I believe to break a law,
Is to make a road
You go east or west,
Home is still the best
But with a bullet in your chest
Don’t mess with these streets
They will give you a free ride to hell
Pot and crack do rounds all over,
It’s a mess,
I am needed, you are needed,
We are needy
We are in a man eat man generation
You either survive or succumb
There’s a billion ways to die,
It’s time for a change,
Change of perspectives,
Change of attitude,
Change of behavior
Let’s get out of our comfort zone,
Coz that’s what’s drowning us,
We need a change
Change for the better
It’s revolution time!!
Copyright © adam abdul | Year Posted 2014
this baby pine
had two young branches
I untwined the branches
set them free
now each will find
his own sun
Copyright © Ashok Niyogi | Year Posted 2005
Cotton And White Clouds
Cotton squeezes spongy soft in sanguine undertows
Flows calmly through the gentle fingers slow
Babies feel them caress their tender skin and sigh
Thin fibers rise to weave a dream of pure new white
Through their tiny minds as they recline to nap
Invisible oceans come and wash thoughts clean
Clouds envy them within the realm of reason
Sleeping on blue skies like baby silent whispers
Marshmallow mountains of ghostly fluff move up above
Over the innocent bundles of pure love
Clean and clear, floating ever slowly
Evaporate as they draw close
Tranquil cotton finds white clouds in heavenly repose
Blissful just like Christmas snow
Before they disappear
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016
Babies soft fingers and their tiny toes,
are like lucious petals on a bright red rose.
Little wild mushrooms like babies bald heads,
constantly growing in most flower beds.
Their fingerprints, white stars in the sky,
and the rain, oh the rain, the tears babies cry.
The sound little rattles make when thrown on the floor,
like the noise of the thunder when it's starting to pour.
Babies are like flowers,
tulips or lilacs, a daisy a rose.
Babies soft fingers,
and their tiny toes.
Copyright © Maddi Collier | Year Posted 2007
OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21
ON 1ST JULY 1990~ THE ANGELS DID SOMETHING ALMIGHTY
FROM HEAVEN THEY SENT US OUR LIFE-LONG DESIRE-A PRECIOUS DAUGHTER TO LOVE AND ADMIRE.
TRUE TO YOUR NATURE YOU ARRIVED WITHOUT FUSS OR PAIN--THE FIRST TIME OUR EYES MET WE KNEW OUR LIVES WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME
AS A BABY AND TODDLER YOU MADE US SO PROUD
YOUR VERY LONG HAIR, GREEN EYES AND SMILE-
ALL THOSE GOOD LOOKS MADE YOU STAND OUT IN A CROWD
YOU STARTED TALKING EARLY WITH MANY VOICEPRINTS
YOUR CHARM AND GOOD LOOKS HAVE NOT STOPPED SINCE
YOU LOVED YOUR DOLLS AND PRAMS-- DREAMT OF BEING A “SINGER”
AND VERY QUICKLY LEARNED HOW TO WRAP YOUR DAD AROUND YOUR LITTLE FINGER
YOUR BIG BROTHER DEVON--BEST FRIEND AND PROTECTER
MOST OF THE TIME YOU GOT ON PERFECTLY TOGETHER
FROM AN EARLY AGE YOU SHOWED YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING
AGE TWO AND A HALF YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING
TO SWIM UNDER WATER AND DO MANY LENGTHS
THIS WAS CLEARLY ONE OF YOUR SPORTING STRENGTHS
AT AGE THREE YOU COULD BARELY WAIT TO START PLAYSCHOOL
“MISS INDEPENDENCE”, WAS YOUR GENERAL RULE
THE SLIDE AND JUNGLE GYM WERE YOUR FAVOURITE SPOTS
AND TO OUR HORROR YOU WOULD CLIMB RIGHT TO THE TOP!
AT AROUND THIS TIME, YOUR FIRST BOYFRIEND YOU MET-
HE LIVED NEXT DOOR, AND HIS NAME WAS BRETT
SOON IT WAS TIME FOR PRE-SCHOOL
YOU LOVED YOUR TEACHER--YOUR NEW FRIENDS WERE COOL
‘SPRING BONNETS’ AND THE END OF YEAR SCHOOL PLAYS
THE TEDDY BEAR CLASS GAVE YOU SOME REAL SPECIAL DAYS
NEXT WAS ‘BIG SCHOOL’ AND YOUR FIRST CLASS
WE WERE SERIOUSLY ANXIOUS BUT FOR YOU JUST ANOTHER ‘MISS INDEPENDENCE’ TASK
LETTERLAND, MATHS AND LEARNING TO READ
YOU EXCELLED AT ALL THAT WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED
YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS CONTINUED THROUGH GRADES 2, 3 AND FOUR
YOUR PLACE IN THE SWIMMING TEAM HELPED YOUR SCHOOL WIN MORE
OUR MOVE TO AUSTRALIA… SAD FAREWELLS TO YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR PETS
BUT, GREAT EXCITEMENT YOU FELT AT ADVENTURES TO BE MET
A NEW SCHOOL--“METHODIST LADIES COLLEGE”
NEW FRIENDS--JUMPING A GRADE-- MET WITH SUCH POSITIVE COURAGE
YOU MADE US SO PROUD IN THE WAY YOU ADAPTED
MRS. WILLIAMSON SAID YOU WERE THEIR NEW CLASS ‘ASSETT’
THE ‘MR BEE’ SPELLING AWARD AND MANY MERITS LATER
WE ALL GOT HOMESICK-- BUT YOUR POSITIVE NATURE DID NOT WAVER
THE DECISION WE MADE TO RETURN TO CAPE TOWN
CAUSED YOU HEARTBROCKEN TEARS AND A PERMANENT FROWN
ONCE AGAIN A SAD FAREWELL TO YOUR NEW FOUND FRIENDS
RETURNING TO S.A. FOR OLD ONES TO MAKE AMMENDS
IT WASN’T VERY LONG THAT YOU PICKED UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT ALL
ADDED TO YOUR TALENTS WERE NOW TEAM HOCKEY AND NETBALL
AS YOU APPROACHED THE FIRST OF YOUR TEEN YEARS
WITH YOUR LOOKS AND CHARM, INEVITABLY THE BOYFRIENDS WOULD APPEAR
SHOPPING, MOVIES AND MANY PARTY SLEEP-OVERS
CHOOSING TRUE FRIENDS AND DUMPING THE LOSERS
DANCE SHOWS AND DANCING EXAMS… YOU EXCELLED AT HIP- HOP
FUN AND OF COURSE THE DESIRE TO SHOP
THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL-- THE FINAL ASSEMBLY—AWARDS
TROPHIES FOR SPORTSMANSHIP AND YOUR S.R.C. PRIZE GOT MANY APPLAUDS
SAD FEELINGS AT LEAVING YOUR OLD SCHOOL BEHIND
EXCITEMENT AT STARTING HIGH SCHOOL WOULD SOON COME TO MIND
NO PROBLEM TO YOU, IT WAS ALL JUST A BREEZE
AS YEAR BY YEAR YOU CONTINUED TO ACHIEVE
SWIMMING AND ‘A’ TEAM HOCKY MATCHES ON THE ASTRO TURF
YOU EVEN STARTED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF
FRIDAY AFTERNOON CHRISTIAN MEETINGS AND EVENING CHURCH YOUTH
WE WERE SO HAPPY YOU FOUND GOD AND HIS TRUTH
THE REST OF HIGH SCHOOL PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE WHILE
YOUR LIST OF ACHIEVEMENTS REMAINED EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH
YOUR ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS WERE ASTOUNDING
COPING WITH TOUGH SUBJECTS LIKE MATHS, SCIENCE AND ACCOUNTING
IN HOCKEY AND SWIMMING YOU MADE THE TOP TEAMS
NO SURPRISE AT ALL THAT SWIMMING COACHES MOVED IN ON THE SCENE.
THEY CULTIVATED YOUR TALENTS FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH
EVERY YOUR NIGHT YOUR PASSION SAW YOU DOING MANY LENGTHS
WEEKENDS OF GALA’S AND NATIONAL SWIMMING
S.A.SHORT COURSE, YOUR P.B’S, AND FAIR SHARE OF WINNING
TOGETHER WE CELEBRATED YOUR PLACE IN W.P. SCHOOL CHAMPS THAT YEAR
SO PROUD OF OUR BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER ALWAYS AHEAD OF HER PEERS
FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY YOU BECAME SO INDEPENDENT
STARTING YOUR STUDIES AS A B.Sc. STUDENT
IT WAS ALSO THE YEAR YOU LEARNED TO DRIVE
GOT YOUR LICENSE—DAD SPOILT YOU—NEW CAR—RESPLENDENT
YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN THE LORD STILL REMAINS FIRM
AS YOU WALK AND GROW SPIRITUALLY DAILY WITH HIM
SO MUCH HAS CHANGED, AND YET SOME THINGS REMAIN
YOU BEAUTY AND TALENTS SO EASILY MAINTAINED
YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING AND OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN WATER
YOU KNOW WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR NO. 1 SUPPORTERS
AND NOW YOU ARE 21, SWEETHEART
YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD OF YOU-- TODAY IS JUST THE START
IT SEEMS LIKE JUST YESTERDAY THAT YOU WERE BORN—
OUR DAUGHTER~LOVES BRIGHT SHINING LIGHT~ WE ADORE
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED IN EVERY WAY
WISHING YOU GOD’S RICHEST BLESSINGS ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY
HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY GIRL
TO HAVE YOU AS A DAUGHTER HAS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE
-YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE OUR MOST BEAUTIFUL TREASURE-
(FOOTNOTE: OUR DAUGHTER WILL BE 23 THIS YEAR, HAS COMPLETED HER BSc. AND HONOURS DEGREE’S IN PHYSIOLOGY AND GENETICS AND NOW DOING HER MASTERS DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE. SHE IS ALSO A PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE—DOING SWIMMING, CYCLING AND RUNNING AS ONE DISCLIPLINE)
Copyright © Kim van Breda | Year Posted 2013
Diamond dawn softened cold clinical walls,
smoothing harsh lines, soothing the sleepless
with love's lilting lullaby. Pastel-bloom hues
sparkled with crystals of dew -
glimmer-prisms of diamond-cut light,
in the month of showers and flowering bowers.
Red and yellow daisies studded dark soil
like gemstones tumbled under the flower of the sun.
Sweet peas twined a bright trellis of light;
clinging like a baby's fist, curling around sunbeams,
climbing a golden ladder of sunlight.
Crystalline morning softly stroked your face -
a sleeping jewel, gently polished
by the early light of a late April sunrise.
dedicated to my little 'sweet pea' Jake, born 28th April 2009
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2012
THREE OUTDOOR SCENES
frog pond mallards
on the grassy, shallow bank
table with peanuts
round and round the tree he goes
caw, caw cries high crow
reading by the sea
this boy sitting on a rock
gull catches the breeze
Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2014
stained water flows
a form bursts forth of life’s flood
a baby wails
For Contest: Haiku vs. Senryu
For and in honor of Charles Henderson
Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2011
She knelt at the edge of the purling forest burn.
Reaching down to pick branches from the ganna bush,
adding it to the morning’s find, including aloe for a burn.
Honey flowers release a pungent smell in a rush.
A monarch butterfly alights on her shoulder.
A gurgling sound can be heard above the birds’ song;
unwrapping the blanket, placing her blouse on a boulder.
Nursing the child, while he tugs at her black hair strong.
The adder coils its tail around a branch in a vice.
A flickering tongue tasting the pregnant air.
She starts to croon – the snake recoils in a trice.
She feels around and gathers her things – eyes blindly stare.
NB Our 5 senses are covered in the course of this poem - leaving "sight" for last. "The eyes are useless if the mind is blind." ~ The Mind Unleashed fb page.
 burn= brook
 burn = injury due to fire, heat. etc
 Ganna bush: Buchu Liquid Soap is the closest you will get to a traditional
KhoeSan soap today. The KhoeSan made soap with the ashes of the ganna
bos/bush (Salsola aphylla) which is an interesting plant in that it contains a
constant 37 % potassium. So you would always know exactly how much lye
you were putting into your soap. Potassium hydroxide is still used today for
liquid soap, although not from the ganna bos, more’s the pity.
Aloe can help remedy the following skin conditions:
honey flower: Kruidjie-roer-my-nie (Afrikaans), Ibonya (Zulu) Scientific
Name: Melianthus comosus. It´s a poisonous plant. When one touches it, then
it gives off an unpleasant smell. This smell is a warning that it is toxic.
Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2014
one thousand paper cranes
between the folded sheets
a baby yawns
In tradition "A Thousand Paper Cranes" are given to a baby for long life and good luck.
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2015
Mom makes tea in the cabin
Leaves baby on the porch to sleep
Under the canopy of shade
There in the jungle creatures have their ways
As mom returns to feed the baby
Finds it missing from the cradle
Babies flesh is warm and oh so tender
Tigers need to eat fresh meat
Rips the child from limb to limb
Nature leaves a calling card
No table manners or invites required
A friendly reminder of whose living room you’re in
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
mournful cries fill the air
mother bird calling for its baby
eaten by the cat
mantis catches butterfly
I am sad: yet, that is
the way of nature
loud feathered thud
- flight into eternity
deceptive glass pane
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013
Baby Bird – Haiku
From the nest, a fall
Tumbling with few feathers down
Soft ground is a kiss
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
six baby ducklings
sailing behind proud mother...
empty broken shells
Written: 31/10/2011 Margaret A Linton Lassie
contest: strict haiku
sponsor: Charles Henderson
Copyright © Margaret Foster | Year Posted 2011
Buried under the brandhes
outside my bath room window
sits a little nest where
each lovely morning I hear chirping
so sweet to my ear,
that will bring much joy
to our world when
these little creatures
flee their nest,
will be silent outside
my window, but beautiful
harmony in the tree tops.
Copyright © James Foulk | Year Posted 2011
The arrow struck with a sickening thud
Piercing the neck with a spurt of blood.
Searing pain with anguish shrill
The wound severe, but did not kill
The baby kangaroo reeled, and fell
Into an agonizing Hell.
An arrow, through the neck, half out the other.
A look of horror from his mother.
Strange instinct told that Man had the power
To save him in his desperate hour.
For days he staggered through bush and plain
With one thought in his aching brain
To reach the streets of Sydney City
In search of help. In search of pity
Brave Baby! How did you know
You could trust man, who had hurt you so?
You did not run. You did not flinch
You stood your ground, did not yield an inch
When they came with a cage to take you away.
You did not know if this was your last day
Or whether in some far flung Zoo
You would be a captive kangaroo
But man with kindness, and great skill
Removed the arrow that was meant to kill.
The wound soon healed and the decision made
To return the Baby to where he once played.
How can a Man have a heart so savage
Thinking it fun to ravage
The body of a defenceless baby with an arrow?
This cruelty fills one with horror.
Lord! I know you have the power to take revenge
And have many ways to avenge
The pain and horror of this deed.
But the Bowman needs help
His soul is sick, it needs repair
Teach him to love, teach him to care.
Copyright © Patrick Maitland | Year Posted 2012
I feel I’ve conquered
the majestic night
in an open field sodden with
love of a countless gasps
I am not new to the world
swearing in the shadow of a cactus
and mulling over the smiles
of Northern stars tirelessly
taking photos of my soul, which is always close
to my birth, craving for prosperity
And, I crave for breath
accenting to mine
Ah, I am forever
the tropical wind of my land
where poetry is like a flower’s gatherer
sweetly teasing my thoughts
to sing like a little baby bird
in an open field sodden with
love of a countless gasps
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2010
Somebody’s Baby, lie still
Embalmed in pure white cotton,
Cocooned securely, like the babe in arms
within the shroud.
Seraphim cavort no more upon a form
once touched with shades of youthful innocence.
Somebody’s Baby, be sure.
Your time for dreams now spent,
No future beckons only time captured frame by frame,
Frozen in vulgar technicolor;
Close Up; Explicit, depicting genre yet unclassified;
The epic over exposed.
Somebody's Baby, be silent.
Grey and gnarled imposter in the cot
Metamorphosis contrives a landscape dry and gnarled.
No more seductress of tender ministry;
Solitary, silently; endures the travesty
Of human demise.
Copyright © CAROL ROBINSON | Year Posted 2007
Baby I hold you above
the cold August Wind
with the sweetest songs I can sing.
Keep them in a Pot
against all natural sin
The eyes of free men
search for it still
no one can smile
into the eyes of an infant
and imagine evil residing there.
Copyright © Dan Helppi | Year Posted 2014
Nature And The White Speckled Fawn
White speckled fawn lying in the dense reeds,
Nature takes greatest care of its own best.
Unlike man and his vicious wicked deeds,
Nature holds life with results not requests.
Baby hummingbird, so fragile and small,
hidden in a well made and clever nest.
Speed and beauty in flight as I recall
so unlike the flies that this earth infest.
Cute pups, barking for much more mother's milk
spotted light red, white and darkest of browns.
So lovely, soft like the best flowing silk,
bringing sweet happy smiles, never sad frowns.
Nature shares with us all, giving each birth.
Yet humans often overlook their true worth!
March 14th, 1994
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 106
Note- Written for my daughter KaShaundra in 1994, age 5, when she asked, "Daddy will you write me a Bambi poem"?...
From my private writes--just decided to share today.
now she is grown and married with two beautiful sons Caleb and Ty...
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016
The animals know better than us. The rain has never poured so loudly in a key so soft.
To the front, the sailing of city buses and mini vans cruising across in this weather makes the water underneath their tires sound like the street is crying out for 5 more minutes of sleep. Up above, the trees are protecting a nest of baby blue jays before they get washed away by the silence of their mother not being there. But with sky blue young spirits, and small empty stomachs, they keep hope alive in the fact that even children know storms and struggles don’t last forever.
Below the trees, nature has found a name to call it’s own. From the hole dug by the little boy next door, a family of three foxes have named human nature sanctuary, and burrowed their problems into the sediment to rest for a while.
To the side of the hole, a flock of ducks are swimming in the water with eyes open wide enough to where you can see their loyalty to love one another rushes wild.
To the right of the pond, caged up in a man made blanket, and lost in his own mind, is the boy. From what he remembers, last night was like a train accident; A head on collision of two people he could’ve sworn he saw holding hands just the other day. He hears the sound of plates shattering in C-minor, and the chorus of words that his parents screamed in F-sharp, so he imprisoned himself in his own bed sheets, accompanied by the courageous corduroy bear who he swears keeps hearing whisper “everything will be okay.”
It’s raining outside, and the crescendos of screams have been silenced by it’s peaceful security.
The boy, sleeps soundly now. The rain has protected his ears, and guarded his heart from being washed away by all of his nightmares.
He doesn’t care whether he wakes up. The baby blue jay, the resourceful fox and the brave little duck are all he wants to keep dreaming about.
Maybe he’ll run away into the rain? Or maybe into the arms if his mother?, whom he prays he can still recognize. To the left of his bed, he picked up the blank page of his coloring book and a crayon, and became a life long poet in that moment that morning. Taking a deep breath in, and giving a soft breath out, his first sentence was
“The animals know better than us.”
Copyright © Spenser Jones | Year Posted 2012
Baby gecko on the wall
You are so very, very small.
Have you come inside to play?
Or just to pass the time away?
Does your mother know you’re here?
Or is she searching everywhere.
She must be frantic with emotions reeling
While you’re just walking on my ceiling.
If I catch you, and put you out
Will you know your way about?
If you go through a different door
You won’t see your mother anymore.
So I’ll have to let you stay
To wander on your merry way.
I hope one day you’ll be big and strong
And stay outside, where you belong
Copyright © Patrick Maitland | Year Posted 2012
The rivulets of ice hang greedily
To barren brown basalt
Drooling downward steadily
Like ribbon candy halted
a crystal ooze assault.
Sweet sap cascading readily
frozen curtain seldom parted
clothe the breast of earth joyously
leave in mist oh mistress tart…
pierce not the lingering heart.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010
The golden eagle flies through the clouds so swift and easy,
And a tree with nest is her stay for years of three;
One or two fledgling young espouse colour as marking,
Hear her calling them, just them, when elegantly swooping.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015
Babies crying in an orange,
Instead of hot dogs I get slobber.
Nudging branches away from the soft and sweet head,
Geraniums droop into view while we climb.
Her elbows folds tight against my body, safe from the forest chill.
Unknown shrieks are heard somewhere deep in the verdant, carpet of trees.
Mila chucks her nook in response, complete, blind confidence in herself.
Ascending to the dirt road troubles ease as we flatten out.
Never had we a care, never had we a worry.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2016
I want to be free to be me
I do not want to be anyone else.
I like me.
I love who I am.
I just want to be at peace with God and put my past behind me.
I want to live in the Present and enjoy my life.
I want to meet some handsome guy yes one special handsome guy and go on dates and be able to have some fun and enjoy my free time.
I want to take nice long walks outside to be one with Nature and get my exercise at the same time.
I’d love to maybe go walking around at the mall sometimes too!
I want to get married one day and I want a beach wedding in the Caribbean.
I’ll be 32 soon and my biological clock is ticking I want a baby girl or baby boy.
Copyright © Ayesha Karim | Year Posted 2012
The light of the Sun
nuzzles the verdure of Earth
with gold fingertips
of chlorophyll-induced warmth
like a babe in swaddling cloth.
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013
seven baby frogs
stare at the sky rainful clouds
they go to mother
Traditional haiku - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Debbie Guzzi
Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2015
We set out at birth of day in search of serenity and bursts of discovery. I felt alive, almost new, like the morning mist and wide-eyed baby I carried on my back. Dawn’s filtered light stroked our cheeks promising a brilliant sunrise. “Soon”, I whispered to my rosy child who gazed in wonder, “very soon”. His coos, like a melody, pranced on delicate breeze, charming squirrels out of hiding. Tiny hands coaxed falling leaves to dance as I inhaled shapes of crisp autumn. Dawn's masterpiece invoked my own childlike awe, and I wore a smile like my favorite sweater.
in effortless smiles
innocent once more
Nature’s breath swirled, enchanting us as brittle leaves rustled underfoot. The branches above, almost bare, swayed to greet our attendance of autumn’s opening performance. In the distance, apple trees speckled with pink and white blossoms met the horizon. The picture of indescribable beauty stirred my spirit, and I turned to find my own brown eyes watching, content. My surroundings, surreal, were wrapped in our blushing smiles as my voice became a prayer of gratitude for earth and sky, mother and child, pale memories, vibrant reflections, and the joy of all to come.
an ageless splendor
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2013
On our walk this morning
Brandy my dog and I saw
such a sad thing, lying on
the sidewalk was a baby skunk
dead as ever. Brandy wanted to
go smell it, but wasn't sure if i should,
so held her back. I had never seen a dead
baby skunk before, i had seen many adult
dead skunks. There was no blood any where
to be found or any other reason for this
poor thing to die or why it was on
the sidewalk. I hate to see any creature die,
even this poor little baby skunk, who never
got a chance in life.
Copyright © James Foulk | Year Posted 2011