The Mask and the Dog

I stare in resigned disgrace
At the disheveled kitchen
Bits of trash
Littering the white stone-cold floor.

My dog pacing
Tail down
Meek in shame and sorrow
But still whining
His big brown eyes
Staring morosely into my eyes.

He knows
That I won’t punish him
That I wish I could get down on the floor
With him
And shrink in my sorrow.
I wish
I could tear through my anger
Like he does.

But I can’t
All I can do
Is face my pity
And self sorrow
And mask my fears
For the rest of the world.





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