When She Died

Her large black head,
Was in my hands,
And her long white blaze,
Rippled as she moved her nose.
Her large hairy ears,
Hung from her head,
And in her eyes,
A look of defeat had made its bed.
For those last moments,
I loved her so,
And cried for her not to go.
Somehow she heard me,
And moved awkwardly,
As the injection,
Took away her affection.
When she died,
She shed a tear,
Hoping that I was somewhere near.





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moderndayEmilyDickinson This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 2, 2014 at 12:19 am
This is sad, but very well written. Thank you for sharing this!
 
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