I am a mutt.
I snarl; my teeth tinged with crimson dried.
My fur is matted and I am cold.
Even so, you took me in.
You kept me warm and my stomach full
And I felt loved for the very first time.
Yet,
I bite and bare my crooked teeth.
I don't quite understand why.
This bitter cycle repeats
Until you try again no more.
So now, I lay against the frozen concrete,
Returning so often to your door,
Awaiting your warm embrace once more.
I swear, I am sorry.
I don't know why I bite after all.
YOU ARE READING
I AM SIMPLY JUST A MUTT. // poetry
PoetryA small collection of poetry all originally written by me.