As a boy I wanted for a companion, Father refused, a dog would not be allowed, This bred frustration, from a son toward a father, As a young man I discovered father once had a dog, A small, rough looking, mut-of-a beast, This bred frustration, of being left out, Mother, in passing, informed me her life was taken by a truck. • My friend’s been with me for two years, As we hold each other close, I pick the grey patches in his coat, I begin to think about life without him and cry. • As a man, I’ve...
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