If I was my own man
I’d be out not in
I’d be bad not good
I’d eat goose not food
I’d be loose not leashed
I’d be first not least
I’d be chaser not chased
I’d be stud not chaste
I’d be wolf not woof
I’d be riffraff not poofed
I’d be beast not boy
that is...
until dinnertime.
Okay Mummy?
Another rainy-day-wistful-dog-at-the-window-poem