My Duma was a cat, just an ordinary cat to others but to me he was my best friend, and my heart.
My Duma had a soft orange coat like the cheeto's mascot on the chip bag.
My Duma had blue/green eyes and a loving face always there when you needed him around.
My Duma was friendly and loving but one day he had a leg infection.
When My Duma had a leg infection, the vet's couldn't do anything to help him with it unless i had thousands of dollars, even though i said i'd pay bits by bits in time just to help save this little creatures life.
I tried everything for My Duma, to save him and keep his little leg protected.
But these vet's didn't care, they don't care about animals they just care about money.
I had to put my Duma down, give him away, i don't know if he's still alive but i will always love My Duma.
Even though it has been abot 10 years since My Duma is gone, i still feel pain inside and saddened.
He only lived for 2 years but left a spot in my heart where he will always stay.
Funny and naive My Duma was, always wanted to play and cuddle.
I love you My Duma, i wish you could come back.
Even certain songs remind me of you when you left i had them playing.
I'll never forget my baby Duma.
Thank you, thank you to the vet's who killed a living creature who was happy and bright.

God..what you still do to me
When will I just move on, already?
Why can't I just breathe?
And why is my heart so unsteady?

It leaps like a rabbit when you appear
And my mind races just like a gazelle
I turn into an animal when you're near
A creature of prey, under a predator's spell

Though I'm not sure if it's fear that I feel
But whether I'm angry, scared, or just anxious as hell
It's clear to me you've left wounds that won't heal
It seems my past just can't say it's farewell

But I will keep dragging myself away from you
Leaving this trail of blood behind
I will survive the pain I went through
Time for this prey to put you out of her mind

Yes, this little thing still goes on
Though your teeth have torn and shredded her
She'll live through what she's undergone
And maybe, just maybe, outrun this predator

apart from the city, steven is sleeping
his fur is made of sunlight
steven's retinals, archives of memories, are glowing

beneath is a lake that reflects the shining
steven's relaxed glimpse swims on the surface
earlier, his pack was murdered

above his head, an orbital cloud is floating
ghosts of the dead ones
urge to communicate

across the lake, a maze of wishes
drifts through the water
empty faces, eyeless and earless

faithful eyes are restlessly observing the luminous night
an angeldog is sitting on the debris of a former court house
its silky fur is glowing while it is singing a song of the ancient
long mother tongues are licking up all of the words, greedily

the dog's night is a creature and it is alive, serious and cheerful
nobody will be able to spot it with the glimpse of humans
dogs can easily scent its traces, like foul fruits, grasping
animals can not talk but they sense way more than any human

science, arts, music are simply distractions from our inabilities
we have to assure us daily that we have a selective soul
that we observe and recognize the existing to recreate it
goosebumps are a replacement for our lack of scent

poems come, artists go, dogs are better off in silence
a dog's barking is nothing else but a distraction for us
we think we control pets, they know us better than we do
the dog's night is dark by now, asleep with one eye opened

some birds recently died of a smog overdose
this is not a big deal but activists are raging
last night they destroyed the lion's cage in the zoo
the lions ate all of them but they died with a certainty:

"we stood against the psychological torture of animals"
when the activists took their last breath, fulfilled
as their arms and legs were bitten off, they sobbed,
deeply concerned if the lions could digest human flesh

unselfish souls, good-hearted people; their families miss them
now they are waiting in front of netherworld's entrance
memories are rolling over their retinals, they are scared
fear is flickering, the activists are looking at gigantic doors

did they really do the right thing? dying as early?
when things have become unchangeable, doubt is arising
doubting is one of the cruelest acts of thinking and feeling
doubting leads to an idealization of the self; mirror-addiction

to kiss a shark is dangerous but some doubts will **** you
we may think that we control them – they dominate us
the mobiles of the activists are switched off
relatives and partners are trying to reach them

zoo visitors hear a ringtone coming from the lions
later on, the zookeeper finds an iphone in their feces
but the activists are fine, they died for a purpose
their funerals will be events of glorification

nobody will speak badly about them; nobody will criticize anything
they left babies, toddlers, wives, husbands and relatives behind
but they died for a purpose; they really did and that's what counts
it's over: stars are vomiting, the cemetery god is reading epitaphs

His shell is a hard rock,
His speed is the ticking clock,
His sneeze is sometimes a shock,
And his skin is a soft sock.
He is greener than the grass,
And his eyes are a transparent glass,
I ask,
Toto you like to bask?

While I was driving a Monster Truck, I ran over Mister Ed.
I accidentally ran over that talking horse and now he's dead.
Mister Ed said "F* you" to me with his final breath.
Millions of people are upset because of his death.

That horse let out a smelly **** before he died.
When his owner saw what happened, he cried.
Wilbur Post called Peta and that got me in a lot of trouble.
I was sued and the only lawyer I could afford was Barney Rubble.

I lost the lawsuit because Barney is stupid because he's from the Stone Age.
When I couldn't pay Wilbur ten million bucks, the cops locked me in a cage.
Please listen to my advice or you may go to jail and your spouse will get a divorce.
If you ever drive a Monster Truck, you'd better not run over somebody's talking horse.