The End Of Life

A poem on animal crualty

I'm in the attic on my own
Just me and my seven year old bone
I don’t think my life will never end
I wish it could this or even next weekend

I have feelings like you humans
I even have a mind of my own
I don’t get treated like a dog
A punch bag is what I am to you.

Apart from killing me
What else was left for you do?
One night you took me to the park
No one was around to hear me whimper and bark

A bullet from the gun and on the ground I lay
Deep down I knew my life would end someday
But the pain you caused me
Will always stay, when will I ever be free.


Remember: A dog is for life and not just for Christmas