A stray dog, he will never find his home,
Alone
Alone, they pet him, stroke him,
Kick him and chase;
They give him the odd bone.
He walks at night, and in no set direction,
He looks at the world,
Just the softest slither
Of pale moonlight.
In the silence he can feel his peace,
And gives up some time
To sing and to play.
He finds it in the air,
And the hunt is finally on,
A spectre'd glow lights his body
As it nears the break of day.
People have often tried,
But they can't chain what is free,
Try and you might only be left
With the bill to pay.
He does it to survive,
To him there is no better,
He lives only because he is.
There is a point when it rains
Where you can't get any wetter.
You stand there and shiver
In this water-weighted coat,
And as you shake it off
I see you smile,
And then it is gone,
You begin to follow,
Alone,
Unbreakable.
The Stray Dog
No comments:
Post a Comment