Poor old Rufus in the garden,
Out all day and night,
His owner never really loved him.
Been like this all his life.
Beaten, bruised and left to die,
Starved until he's thin.
Hasn't had a decent meal
Since 1996.
Baby Rufus was so cute,
And that was why they bought him.
But then he grew and had become
A health and safety hazard.
They didn't want a giant dog,
Or one that was as ugly.
So like the trash they threw him out
Which made him oh so lonely.
Poor old Rufus, aged 18,
Stayed in that back garden.
Cold and sad and all alone
On November evening.
One last tear rolled down his cheek.
He said his last goodbyes.
He lay his head down on his paw.
A chill ran down his spine.
He though back to his family,
The one he thought had loved him.
And as his eyes began to close
One last thought remained.
-'Why?'
YOU ARE READING
Poems of my Mind
PoetryThese are a collection of poems that I have written in my spare time and at University. They're in practically chronological order from 2009 - present day (except the first couple) so the most recent updates WILL be more thought-out and poetic. But...
