I had a home once,
a nice small place,
with big doors,
and plenty of room to play,
with a nice big bed,
where a woman slept,
where I was always welcome,
she would pat the space next to her,
and I would bound on up,
she would scratch behind my ears,
and kiss between my eyes,
tell me I was a good pup,
and stroke my fur all night,
and she would turn out the lights,
and I would sit in the dark,
watching her sleep,
smelling her beauty,
and I knew I had the best owner,
but that has ended now,
and I leave a trail of blood behind me,
from the hole where my happiness once was,
roaming the world searching,
for a new home,
hoping for someone to pet my fur,
tell me I'm a good pup again,
but now,
I'm just,
a destitute mutt.