(This form is called The Golden Shovel, which means you steal the end words from a poem. I stole these from Dream Song 14)
I am a dog and I live a dog’s life. So
what? Does that mean I do not yearn as the sky yearns?
Do I not yearn as much as the dreaming human? I yearn
for the great field, untethered. I yearn for a boy,
agile as me, hungry for the run, one who is never bored
or still. I do not know about this one. He has no
thirst for running, no
nose for the scent of quail and cats. I am bored
of his incessant sleeping, much as he is bored of me
and my desires. My needs are like the themes of great literature
and popular music. My days filled with plights & gripes
such as those that plagued the hero, Achilles.
Why does no one listen to me?
They think my snarls and yipes a drag,
They believe I am simply a dog,
When I begin to articulate my needs, they look away.
Listen, I say, barking, I am leaving,
You will find no replacement for me. Wag.
Poem A Day 