Battered, tattered

Location

You walk in.

I stop, stare.

You sigh, and lean on a wall.

 

I’m shocked,

You were in shock.

 

Hair missing,

And skin stitched together,

From the battered, tattered, pieces.

Cigarette burns, bruises,

 

And your eyes.

They sparkle,

And shine.

 

Show me your hope,

And renew mine.

Comments

Surnrnoner

I wrote this poem about a dog my family took in a few years ago. He was beaten nearly to death by his previous owners, and the sight of him the first time I met him absolutely shocked and scared me. He went through hell to get to heaven.

We named him Dante

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