The Life of the Dog

March 3, 2008
He lies down sadly
As time passes by.
He is all alone on a ruby red rug.
His eyes stare sadly at the clock of time,
Awaiting that special
Arrangement of the hands.

Time passes slowly,
As he watches the hands.
Suddenly the time comes.
A small light appears and he rises.
He dances over to the light,
And wags his furry tail.

A tall black silhouette walks in and pets him.
The dog is happy once more,
His day is complete,
And it shall happen again tomorrow.

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