The Cry of the Voiceless.

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My eyes shine with innocence and pain, my paws trembling, my fur matted, my voice speaking yet silent.

Why must they only see my fragility, my weakness, a body bag for them to beat?

I am a life. I carry a soul. 

My mother left me in the hopes of somebody to care for me, if only she knew, how cruel this world could be.

I call for her. Day and night, yet she never comes to my rescue.

The chains on my neck are tight, though not nearly as tight as the chains on my heart.

I trusted, and now I fear.

I look at them with such pain, but their hearts never show the mercy I beg to be given.

As I lay on the spiky grass, my body starts to dull, I can't help but wonder,

"Will my mother save me now?"


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