by A. Shakib
I wrote this poem one morning after I had eye-opening conversation with my neighbor.
|My Master's Agony
By: A. Shakib
It was a dark and rainy night,
When my master swept me away to her craft.
She must have noticed the overwhelming pain,
A pain that has been growing in my belly for a while.
Has it been sixteen weeks now,
Since my favorite doctor had told me this.
But my master was carrying me away,
Almost a week too early.
I put my hand over my inflated ballooned body,
Feeling the warmth of life seeping through the thin membrane.
I knew as we arrived in the sanctuary,
That things weren't going according to plan.
My doctor put me on the top of the cold exam table,
And let a cold fluid run through my vein.
A day later, I found a vertical scar on my ruptured belly,
And how I littered more pups than my nurturing breasts could allow.