I had to kill my dog today, she was already dead anyway. Killed by a man who escaped her. Killed by a man who shaped her. Killed by a man who raped her.
By making her breed, killing her need. By making her feed, killing her heed. By making her love, killing her above. By making her shove, killing her dove. By making her fight, killing her might. By making her less, killing her best.
But she was not a goat, she was a dog. Never the sane pup, she was. Now she is with God, in heaven above.
Love healing hearts, Shirah Chante, Relationship Artist