Friday, March 19, 2010


An animal sits abandoned,

hungry, traumatised and sad,

with life in tatters and no future,

it thinks of fun and love it had.

It thinks of children growing up,

like brothers, sisters do.

Of laughter, plays and dreams together,

of feasts together, too!

Who cares of its feelings, so hurting,

who gives a damn when so alone?

‘Only an animal’ they say, ‘keep walking!’

So ragged, old, all skin and bone.

With feelings deeper than we have,

it understood, and it gave.

Who cares now that appearance gone?

Now all its hope is a grave.

Peter Frederick

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