I love writing poetry, poetry lives within me. It is not luck which nurtures my talent, but my commitment and persistence.
The dog barks As the world turns, The dog barks He hears his masters cry, Overshadowing the silence of the night. His master’s keeper had always been rough, It was evident in the way he always touched her His paw never failed to leave a mark on her face, It was default the way his knuckles would break her skin open And this night his hands hugged on too tightly onto her throat, Long enough to leave her breathless. As the world was turns, The dog barks, He cannot hear his master’s cry no more, He knows she shall never feed him again.
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Viewed 14 times since 11 Jan 2019
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