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Cold is the snow
As it crushes under my feet.
I've been out here for days.
With nothing to eat.
I reach out for help
But I'm struck with a hand
I'm starting to comprehend.
The cruelty of man.
I'm nothing but a monster,
With no place to call home.
So I wander this street
cold and alone.
I think back to him,
the one who smiled at me.
But then he got sick,
And Funerals aren't free.
They didn't have the Money.
They didn't have the care,
They pushed me out the door,
with a teary eyed stare.
I want to be home!
Where I'm clean, yes its true,
Now I'm a mess,
My ribs showing through
As my limbs grow cold,
I rest under a tree,
Here lies a boys friend,
A dog named rusty.
 Succubus By Night · Sun Oct 25, 2009 @ 05:56pm · 0 Comments |
