By Tapasyaa Chikhale
Why is it always the dogs?
Always the dogs who have to suffer?
Seeing them makes your mind fog,
But why do you always differ?
From those high-maintenance breeds
To this one little mighty indie,
They just want one thing,
And that's your heart, if anything.
No fancy stuff, no gourmet food.
All they want is for you to be good.
Correct me if I'm wrong,
But it isn't their fault they were born on the streets, is it?
All I can think about is them at night,
As they protect the streets with all their might,
As they try not to get beaten up by a drunkard fooling around.
Is this their worth? Is this their worth?
Imagine protecting someone you don't even know from bad guys,
But the 'someone' turning into the bad guy.
Imagine just wanting to have a morsel of food,
But being shooed away just because they think you're not 'good.'
Imagine walking up to each and every person you see,
Hoping they would take you home,
Make you feel safe and at home.