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Old Dog
My heart is an old dog on a chain
Now I’m free but I’m not for wandering
The worlds too cold for an old dog like me,
do you remember the little devil I used to be?
That wicked laugh that you once shook to hear
I’m laughing and you’re no longer here
Untied me and told me to get on
One last look at the place I was bound
Dragged the chain til the grass all wore away
Made friends with whatever kept me out the rain
Dreamt where I’d finally go free
Broke loose but now I’m not for wandering
Thanks to Starward, I found
Thanks to Starward, I found your endearingly relatable and inviting poem. The charming metaphor is perfectly tailored to the experience and the delightful style. A joy to read.
This gives a unique
This gives a unique expression to what is, I suspect, a process of change experienced by multitudes of people who may not even be able to notice it---let alone articulate it in metaphor as well as you have done here.
Starward
Aw shucks, thank you. This is
Aw shucks, thank you. This is too on the dogs nose, heh, in my own life right now. I'm glad that it came across that way.
Let your teeth show