We are all dogs;

we've been bred to either be passive or rebellious.

Our masters put shock collars around our necks and say,

"Make one peep and you'll writhe in your own skin."

All it takes is one shock to silence the majority of us.

Still, some of us speak out anyway,

trying to ignore the sickly convulsions

in an attempt to send this point across:

we want freedom.

There is no alpha in this pack.

There is no omega.

Confine me to the corner of my kennel,

chain me to the farthest tree,

but I will never stop barking.

I will never stop digging my way

out of this rut you call "management."

Someday we will bury your bones

in this abyss we've created.

By this, maybe you'll realize

that in your failed attempt to soften the rebellious,

the only accomplishment you've made

is to lower the tails of the passive.

Why don't you get a taste of your own medicine,

a bite of your own kibble,

a wiff of your own butt?

Why don't you take a step into our paws

and even begin to scratch the surface of the concept

that only through equality will our tails wag again.