The Puppy

what an ocean 
created by emotions
fears, wants
mixed all together
unable to see or pick out
which belongs to which fish
swimming along
as if nothing is wrong
what a forest
a jungle
each tree a separate person
looking green 
and healthy outside
filled with bugs
decaying within 
the prey sit on the forest floor 
hiding in their niches
coming out only for a meal
so they seem happy
but pick up a puppy from the street
care for it 
nurture it
feed it and give it love
a child may cry out when he's sad
but even when they don't 
you know when something's wrong
love him and care for him
but life takes its course
what a cunning devil it is
when bills pile up 
and work gets left undone
and they are alone
but what of your love?
yes its still there
but a child is a child
makes a problem 
and soon, they are no longer yours
give them love again
and now they scorn you
like they say
the dog you feed 
may bite you back

This poem is about: 
My community


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