(The story of many Greyhounds)

The start gates swung open with the blast of a gun,
The crowds began shouting"come on dog, run".
My blood pumping fast, heart eager to please
I set of at my fastest, with pain in my knees.

As I entered the first I was running quite well
Keeping up with the pack then, "crack", and I fell.
As I lay on the floor with sand on my face
All that I wanted was to finnish the race!

I looked to my master as I rose to my feet,
But all that I saw was shame and defeat.
I tried to say "sorry" with a wag of my tail,
My head filled with hurt, my heart with betrayal.

I now lay forgotten, for I'm no longer of use,
I'm an object of torture, pain and abuse.
My heart it is broken, my body is sore,
I feel that I'm dying, I can take this no more.

Blood mats my coat, pulled tight on my hips,
And for days now no food has passed through my lips.
I close my eyes and think for a while
Then I feel to be driffting, mile after mile.

Whilst I am floating no pain can I feel,
Maybe I'm dreaming, maybe it's real.
Maybe I'm going to Heaven above,
Maybe there I'll be shown some kindness and love.



By Kerrie N Wright 14 June 1999.

Maybe (King)

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