Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Back at the back of the running dog pack and there's no looking back in the pack. I growl my resistance to change and put distance between us. We eat on the go because nothing can slow us from reaching the destination we chose, but not one dog of us knows where that destination might be. I am back, but I may as well pack up my bags and go back to wherever it was that I came from. When no one knows where we are going and the road is so long how can it be wrong to make right and turn risk into a brisk walk away. Back to the pack through the cranks and the ranks of the bulldogs, into the wheels and the cogs of machine driven scenery, how green are we that we couldn't see the wood for the barking? How could we not know that mad dogs only go to the pound? I stick around for a while, but my heart isn't in it If there's a collar I wear it? but swear it's for the lady to choose.
0
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
Club cards
Back at the back of the running dog pack and there's no looking back in the pack. I growl my resistance to change and put distance between us. We eat on the go because nothing can slow us from reaching the destination we chose, but not one dog of us knows where that destination might be. I am back, but I may as well pack up my bags and go back to wherever it was that I came from. When no one knows where we are going and the road is so long how can it be wrong to make right and turn risk into a brisk walk away. Back to the pack through the cranks and the ranks of the bulldogs, into the wheels and the cogs of machine driven scenery, how green are we that we couldn't see the wood for the barking? How could we not know that mad dogs only go to the pound? I stick around for a while, but my heart isn't in it If there's a collar I wear it? but swear it's for the lady to choose.
john-edward-smallshaw
Written by
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem