You hear the whimper of pleas,
Coming from small brown dog.
He’s tied up, locked down.
Attached to a huge log.
He sits and waits for his owner to return,
But little did he know that he was abandoned.
Still he lays and hopes,
Even as the blood crimsoned.
They always say a dog is “Man’s best friend.”
So then why did the best friend end up on the street?
Alone and hungry,
Struggling just to survive, just to eat.
When he grew up with a warm bed and a fire,
But now knows of only cold rain and desire;
To be back at home with you,
Even though you didn’t want him.
And instead of taking the time to find him a new home,
You kicked him out with no questions or answers,
You sentenced him to a life of misery and pain.
So when he bites that one child who got too close to the only food he’s had in weeks,
He gets put down without a second thought, without a second beat.
But you don’t know.
But you don’t care.
You’re best friend is dead.
Although you forgot, he never did.
Because he had searched for you on those hard streets,
Hoping you would forgive him for whatever he did.