I’m sorry I used you as a lifeline
But I don’t think you’re sorry.
You threw yourself out to me, after all.

Maybe it was just an accident
You were trying to save yourself again
From something, and I was good karma
Saving a life ought to make it all even.
Somehow.

Maybe it was just blind luck
Or St Jude, because I was a desperate one
The spirit of familiarity, the gods of my ancestors
Or maybe just you, because you couldn’t just be done.
With me.

I’m sorry for the times I called
I’m sorry for the times you answered
I’m sorry for the way I made you scared
But I’m not sorry that you cared.
No one else did.

And I hope I was worth it.
I hope that karma has repaid you
Because god knows I can’t.
I’m sorry for everything I made you do.

But I know you’re not
And because you never will be
I found the strength
To keep death
From catching up with me.

When I was 18, someone saved me after I attempted suicide. They were there for me a lot at that time and I felt terrible and guilty for leaning on them but I'm not sorry because I made it through to today because of them. Somehow I doubt they would be sorry either.

Is google a boon,
Or controlling our doom?
Google to the rescue,
Next browse in our view,
Time to print,
Another forest extinct,
Let's rescue each other,
Google as Big Brother,
Next to browse to my view,
Yes, google to the rescue!

Feedback welcome.
Fiona King Mar 7

It's cold in the fields, and the wind it blows fierce.
My fur is all matted, but the ice rain can pierce.
My paws, they are bleeding, I have walked a long way,
with no destination, no place to stay

I curl up in the bushes and hope they give cover.
I close my sore eyes and I think of my mother.
She was tired but kind and they took me away.
I cried for a long time and did quietly pray.

I stayed in a cage with my brothers and sister.
She went away first and I desperately missed her.
The boys went together and I was alone.
No family, no dinner, no pride and no home.

I tried to get comfy but the cage was so hard.
I saw no green fields just a bare concrete yard.
The men came with scraps they were rough they were cruel.
I slipped out of that cage breaking their rule.

I ran like a bullet and never looked back.
To the pain, and the fear, and the loss of my pack.
It's just me now but at least l'm alive
Battered and broken but still I survive.

I crawl out of the bushes disheartened and numb.
My stomach is growling, I can't find a crumb.
I chew on some grass but it makes me feel ill.
I will move on again if I can muster the will.

I spot in the distance, a human, I'm scared,
but I smell something good and I no longer care,
I run to the man with a devious plot,
I'll grab his good breakfast while it's still nice and hot.

As I approach, he speaks to me gently
He bends down to my side and says god must have sent me.
There are people who long for a friend just like me.
Just to play in their garden and curl on their knee

He gives me his breakfast and smiles as I eat.
He tickles my neck and lifts me off my sore feet.
He carries me home I'm too tired to fight.
I'm taken away to a shelter that night

I still feel lonely but the humans are kind.
They give me some food and my wounds they bind.
They bathe me and brush me and cut out my matts
They give me a bed, and some strokes and some pats

Some new people come in to visit one night.
I am happy to see them, they are moved by my plight.
They promise to come back so I can go with them.
They are sure of the joy and the love I could give them.

I go to the house, there's a garden to play in.
I got my own toys and my own bed to lay in.
I've got lots to learn about life with a family.
But I'm as clever and sharp as a little dog can be.

Soon we are family and now I belong.
My memories of past times will shortly be gone.
I sigh to myself as I munch on my bone.
Now I am happy, now I am home.

Paul Cochrane Feb 20

Man is cruel, Man is kind,

Far from home, on arid land,
A litter fell on Arab sand,
Mother’s milk did taste so sweet,
She foraged out on hostile streets.
At night as humans sealed their fate,
By leaving each to nature’s fate.

For food and water the bitch did grope,
That pup and her could live in hope,
Each win brought forward sunlit dawn,
The pup awaits her new day morn,
Till one desperate day the padding paws,
Of mother did not return at all.

Weak abandoned, struck with stones,
The starving pup abandoned home,
Cruel sun and humans tortured her,
And she decided she’d had enough,
Of constant hate and absent love.
Allowed by Law of God above.

She crawled with last remaining force,
And whispered with her throat so hoarse.
“Leave me be - beneath this bin,
When it’s over, throw me in.”
A week of cowering, ‘neath the steel,
Giving up each moment to mortal wheel.

Turning closer to the end,
Of pain, despair and suffering.
Whenever humans did come near,
With dehydrated constant fear,
She buried herself deeper down,
Away from hope in hopeless town.

One noise persisted above the rest,
But human kindness cannot expect,
A dog-eared dog in plastic shroud,
To welcome those inhuman crowds,
Whose only act in her short life,
Was taunts and stones and sharpened knives.

Still weakness and despair did come,
And to the gentle hand succumbed,
Unguarded neck - she did not care,
If flash of blade would cease her pain.
Light? Blinding sun! And sweet caress,
And milk? And water? And what is best!

The soothing stroke of calloused hand,
The coolness given as air was fanned,
And vaseline to smother ticks,
Head and shoulders, giving licks,
Of love and thanks to one whose kindness,
Battled through the Basra blindness,

The fate of Warpaws, so far away,
Was followed close by those who cared.
And all of those who did donate,
Were praying for her to be saved.
There’s millions more, but there’s no ban.
On trying to save the one you can.

So Alex, Jen and countless more,
You fought the fight but knew the score.
The chances of surviving past,
Emaciation and then at last,
Damage she’d never overcome.
Still - you tried to save this one.

Think on this now all is done.
Her final week – no baking sun,
Nor plastic melted to her skin,
But care and food and water in,
The faith of he who wrapped her up,
In tattooed arms of endless love.

Warpaws was a rescue dog in Iraq found by my cousin Alex Cairnie. He tried to save it and bring her home but was, sadly, unsuccessful.
Rose Nao Feb 13

My room is dark
and my body is cold.
Warmth, glowing and dewy.
Soft and smooth skin,
sallow and glorious.

You have to take me right now
from this dreary and withered life now.
Yes, you. When will you come?

Lift me onto your lap,
blue sixty dollar dress on the floor,
lacey pink pants caressed by your dancing fingertip,
dainty bralette hangs loose.

I wear your glitter,
you sweat with excitement.

You have to take me from this dark trailer park life now. This is unfinished like every other poem I've posted.

F or when
I n distress,
R escue comes
S aves you from
T he troubling pain

A nd as you lay
I nto the stretcher,
D eath arrives.

I do not take myself seriously
Topic: First Aid
01/--/17

Ankle Pull
Masked Voice Jan 20

We all act
Strong.
When,
All we need is
Getting a little help

Forgive me for any mistakes...
Thanks for reading!! :)
Eric Lewis Jan 17

Dragged in by chains
You won't leave alone tonight
With everything you've said
Every crime commited
Here is a prison
Made of everything you know
Throw away the key
Because You won't see the day
Again

All fear and shame
They knew my name
I was in bondage to every broken sin
All fear and shame
They knew my name
I was in bondage to every sin

And here I was lost
Bound to my cell
Past was calling
Burdened from hell
You took my place
Where nailed wrists bled
And the thorns that pierced
Where you died and bled
Taking my place

Breathing softly
As the casket closed
And iron maiden
To close me into binds
No escape
No closure
No escaping the exposure of this sting
Untill you came
And took the death belonging to me

And here I was lost
Bound to my cell
Past was calling
Burdened from hell
You took my place
Where nailed wrists bled
And the thorns that pierced
Where you died and bled
Taking my place

And here I was lost
Bound to my cell
Past was calling
Burdened from hell
You took my place
Where nailed wrists bled
And the thorns that pierced
Where you died and bled
Taking my place

Take this life and all its pain
Blessed Are you Slain
Blessed Is The Slain
Blessed, beloved return again

2 Corinthians 5:21
harlon rivers Dec 2016

Snowflakes are starring the frozen pond’s reflection
Juncos  slip,  slide  and  skate  away  
across a solacing winter wonderland
puffed  plumage shaking off the wintry  weight
as the snowbirds gather        
on the threshold of a beautiful  dream

She sits and stares out wistfully,
wild eyed as a young caged lioness          
    half frisky       ...       half uncertain
... twice giddy with a wholly unknown joy,
without a care in the world            
oh! what nascent little sparkly green eyes do tell

savoring the input ...    
from the newness of heightened senses
enthralled by Lilith’s magically woven
frozen  gossamer  spell    

And I’m overwhelmed
by a swelling rogue feeling;
stirring an echoing void deep within
like being silently buried alive  
by an enrapturing impossible dream,
from arm's length,    
just a frozen step away  

Beheld in an unsatiated yearning
to teach of tasty snowflakes reincarnation
Frosty the Snowman is waiting patiently
and the forgotten inner-child's dreams,
memories of happy birth days past,..
feeling deeply                
grandma’s  softly spoken breath
in my heart and on nape of neck:   
"its too cold outside for angels to fly!"

Wishes upon frozen stardust
to    blissfully   discover    
a playful  festive  enchantment;

an old soul and a shaggy puppy’s
spontaneous shimmer and glee  

Serendipitous snowflakes pile up
like a blanketing befallen silence
with  a  newly  begotten  peace

knowing intimately,        
if we are lost we are lost together

mesmerized                
by just being in the harmony of now

Puppy's first snowflakes ... and i,
and the leaves come falling down

...on this day I am the rescued and healing


"to start with the ending : is the best way to begin"



the last time it snowed on my birthday i was 5 ..
.
December 5th, 2016 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved

the light inside the dark
the soft inside the hard
the love inside a grateful heart

being a protector of precious paws
is something to be―

"If it be your will" to be remembered,
for others to know and understand
a deep love, love strong
that abides passionately within,
not the traces of misunderstood darkness that stain life
in unplanned and incomprehensible ways;
life isn't always as we would choose,
yet if there were a choice,
I would still shamelessly choose
... to do it all over again

the passing of love, dusty puppy's first snowflakes ... and i, 
   will be  ♡   .              
... thank you for your patience hp

~ peace ~

I Will Remember You [Sarah McLachlan//LYRICS] dedicated to..
https://youtu.be/XQtAOuBjysc

.
Bethany G Blicq Dec 2016

Sometimes

you cannot save someone
from them self…

Regardless,
you should try,

and keep trying
at every chance,

just in case
you can.

I will never give up.

Written in 2016.
Bethany G. Blicq

Thank you for reading!
If you enjoyed this piece of writing, check out its home...
My Blog: Wherethereisloveblog.wordpress.com
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