I have been to the pits
\nin my life and I know
\nthat probably
\nthis is the last place
\nI’ll go
\nso far removed from the
\nland of my birth
\nwhere the trees and the grasses
\nwere something of worth
\nI would dart into a stream
\non wild honey I’d dream
\nwatch the wolves on their jaunt
\nhear their howls
\nthat did haunt
\nthe night time
\nthe moonlight
\nthose days long ago
\nbefore I was captured
\nand life as you know
\ndwindled for me
\nin these 4 concrete walls
\nwhere the wind gets so cold
\nthat inside it appals
\nmy fur isn’t good anymore
\nits the food
\nmost of its rancid
\nthe keepers are crude
\nthey don’t understand
\nwhat my needs are and I
\nam forced to sit here
\nand slowly I die<\/p>\n
its a torrid existence
\npeople do come
\nbut they spit on me taint me
\nI am now quite numb
\nto the low life that threaten me
\nthrow rocks as I
\nsit here alone
\na lonely old guy
\nnobody loves me
\nnobody cares
\njust a smile from somebody
\nbut nobody shares
\neven that, just that
\nemotional state
\nits just sit in the cold
\nand actually wait<\/p>\n
for death with his sickle
\nto come by and say
\nit is your time bear
\nwe’re going away
\nto a place where the forest
\nwill always be green
\nwhere the grasses are tall
\nand where no one is mean
\nthat’s what I now look forward to
\nwhen ever it comes
\nthe human tribe hate me
\nthey show me no love
\nI get wet from the rain
\nthat falls from above
\nI don’t have a shelter
\nits get wet
\nand hope
\nthe sun shines a little
\nand I well just cope<\/p>\n
the food’s always rotten
\nand the public who come
\nthrow me empty cartons
\nso yes I have some
\ncartons to play with
\nbut these days for me
\njust a smile or some love
\nwould be great
\nits a plea<\/p>\n
to the universe just send
\nsomeone who cares
\nwho will hold me
\nor brush me
\nor answer my prayers
\ntake me away
\nfrom this pit pf a place
\nand let me again
\nthrough the great forest chase
\na bird or a butterfly
\njust let me see
\nthe sunlight that plays
\nthrough the leaves constantly
\nlet me taste the fresh air
\nlet me sit down and sigh
\nlet me be loved
\nbefore I do die<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I have been to the pits in my life and I know that probably this is the last place I’ll go so far removed from the land of my birth where the trees and the grasses were something of worth … Continue reading