Our Poor, Four Legged-Friends. Poem by Michael Gale

So many hidden meanings...
Sprouting from these Human-Beings.

These beings, evil be...
Can't you see, they, be?

Yes, they be evil, these beings, be...
They'll make us sad, both, you, and me.

They'll make us wake, inside a cage...
Unjustified, though, angry, be their rage.

These beings once fed and walked we, yes, they did...
Away they left us, away, they bid.

I myself still show signs of scare and pain...
I'll never more, of them, trust's, do gain.

For on these streets, in the cold and rain...
I dodge the cars, to avoid, some pain.

On other days I scratch and itch...
But on this other day, I walk with a hitch.

That truck just grazed my leg...
To fill my belly, with food, I'll do tricks, and beg.

The Winter's cold and freezing chill...
To me in whole, will it some day, finally, due, kill.

THE END