aNoTHer HoRRiBLe PoeM


Once, I had a dog.

I think, she might have been part bulldog?

Her name was Cat.

‘Course, you wouldn’t know that!

Every day we took a walk,

When we didn’t, she would sulk.

I could let her out for hours!

All alone, entertaining herself in a field of flowers.

But then one day, off to California my nana and

Papa had to be, so they sent me to my aunt’s, filled with sorrow.

They told me she barks to much! of f to Uncle L’s she must go!

At dear Uncle L’s, there was a hole

In the fence, and out she went, like a mole.

I’ll go back to my owner she must have thought.

Back to her house she sought.

The poor thing never did understand

How anybody could leave he behind, in a single stand.

I can just imagine her black fur whipping in

The wind.

People who saw her said it looked like she was running,

Running like God was chasing her from a time she had sinned.

Alas, she lost her way

And soon, day turned to night and night turned to day.

Once, I had a dog.

She might have part bulldog.

Cat was a Belgian sheepdog mutt, and she was my bestest friend. Sometimes my uncle still sees her running around his woods, so there is still hope to get her back…  The picture is not of Cat, but it is a picture I got online of a belgian sheepdog pup. All my pictures of her got lost when my phone got melted in the oven (sibling trouble).

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aNoTHer HoRRiBLe PoeM

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