January 16, 2008 § Leave a comment

&still my love lingers; i feel it every single day.
but where has my happiness gone?
it’s always a cloudy, cold rainy day.
no rainbows.
a box of puppies sitting on the corner of the street, drenching wet.
shaking and shivering, wondering what cruel world they were brought into.
brought into, and so quickly to be taken right out.
just weeks into life – a life that could have been precious and good to them if someone had cared.
but they were thrown out of their home, of their mother’s life.
and what of their dad?
brothers and sisters bonded together,
they remembered the times nuzzled up in furry balls to their mother’s breast,
that sweet milk flowing down their tiny newly developed throats.
would they ever chase butterflies through tall green grass, stumbling over paws too large for their miniature legs?
or was that all just a dream every dog wished to live?
they couldn’t be given the chance to pursue that happiness that they deserved if they were left here to spend the last moment of theur lives
staring at the wall of a box,
yelping in vain in hope to be taken out of the rain,
for someone to let a few fuzzy faces into the warmth of their heart.
how much longer will they have to watch as the cardboard weakens under the weight of the water?
another splash as tires penetrate a deep puddle of dirty water on the side of the road.
don’t they see the abandoned box?
they shake off the sudden downpour of water but to no avail,
for the rain just continues to fall from the dark clouds high above them,
and out of reach.
they didn’t ask to be put here.
they didn’t ask to be born.
they didn’t ask someone to put them in a box too small for them marked with 
FREE in large capital letters on one of the flaps.
the small cardboard box is beginning to fill with freezing cold water.
their soft paws shake as they cry for hwlp.
but their cries go unheard as thunder rumbles, drowning out their plee
and scaring the puppies into fits of trembles.
if anyone was there, you would see the fear in their eyes.
the long for someone to hold them in their arms.
but if they ever got out of this mess,
would they be able to trust anyone?
to love them as one should love?
…without rules?
or will that one event so early in their life be enough to stick with them forever.
a permanent mark on a life so fragile.
a life that once had dreams, that once had hope for a future.
a life that longed for love, a best friend.
simply, a walk in the park.
and if anyone was there to notice,
they would see that it wasn’t rain that was running down their faces,
but a steady flow of tears.
another splash, another raindrop.


Share your thoughts...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Metaphor at Savannah Wishart.


%d bloggers like this: