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FOR SALE TO A GOOD HOME
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| I was born in the summer, A few years ago. Quite why I was born, I'll never know. Some folk owned my mother. They decided to breed. No reason I know of, Except for their greed. I know I was hungry. I know I was cold. And they sold me quite early at just five weeks old. Owners number one, Seemed friendly at first And life was quite good, Till my bubble burst. They started to argue. Their marriage split up. And in went the advert: 'For sale -4 -month pup'. Some more folk arrived. The next ones in line. They treated me kindly, And life was just fine. But the Master dropped dead. And she couldn't cope. So she sold me again (I'll soon give up hope). I now had a new home, Up in the sky. We went in a lift, Fourteen floors high. The new folk were kind. But they left me all day. I was busting to wee, and had nowhere to play. It was bordom I think, When I chewed up that chair. They agreed 'I should go' as it just wasn't fair. |
The next home was good, And I thought, 'This is it,' They started to show, And I won -well a bit. Then some body told them, That I had no bone'. And in went the advert: 'For Sale -to good home'. The next lot were dreadful. They wanted a guard. But I didn't know them although I tried hard. One night they got burgled. And I didn't bark. Tied up in that shed. Alone in the dark. For four months I lay, In that cold, dark shed. With only an old paper sack for a bed. A small dish of water, All slimy and green. The state I was in, well, It had to be seen. I longed for destruction. An end to the pain. But some new people came, And I went off again. Well now I'm with rescue. And this home is good. There's walks in the country, And lots of food. There's kisses and cuddles, To greet me each day. And I dread the time They will send me away. But for now, here I stand. Skin and bone, on all fours. PLEASE -don't let me' happen, To any of yours. |
Joyce Wright 1986
