May 2018
Twas the month of giving mourned.
the scent of ale seeped from my pores.
I'll never forget the dreadful day,
I watched my comet fly away.
Now the scent of ale scorned,
days of lights and giving mourned.
Tis now burried beneath the clay,
the brightest comet burned away.
Days of solitude then engulfed me,
how I missed your scent, your sight.
Twas the month after eleven,
as a gift I gave you heaven.
the scent of ale seeped from my pores.
I'll never forget the dreadful day,
I watched my comet fly away.
Now the scent of ale scorned,
days of lights and giving mourned.
Tis now burried beneath the clay,
the brightest comet burned away.
Days of solitude then engulfed me,
how I missed your scent, your sight.
Twas the month after eleven,
as a gift I gave you heaven.
About my bestfriend Comet (a dog) who I had left at home to go to a Christmas party and got too drunk and spent the night away and he managed to escape and got hit by a semi out front of my house.
