I am in the middle of a busy street
Some gigantic, noisy things whoosh passes by
In frantic speed, to my left and right
But how would I know?
They have the right of way on the highway
I just came out of my mother’s womb
As soon as I could walk, I was put out on the roads
Not mine or my birth mother’s choice
Hungry, famished, thirsty, lost and lonely
Now roaming around the dusty highway
No peace
How would I know
My kind is a menace to society
I am a vagabond, pitiful, unwanted hopeless creature
I am put out to be hit, maimed and killed
Far, far from warmth, compassion or care
Who can take me home?
To that familiar smell, my mother’s milk
Her soothing lick, and loving sound
I do not see greenery, grass, hay, feed
Only concrete, pavement, dust, noise
Unbearable hunger, hostile,
harsh humans
Unknowingly add to my plight
Being chased, beaten, shooed from place to place
I suffer in silence.
