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Letter to childDearest One,
I’m sorry I can’t be here,
I know times will be tough
Without me to be there
By your side during trials and errors,
But, do know that I love you
From now until the end of time
My dearest, sweet child of mine.
You’ll be permitted to read this when you’re eighteen
I know you’ll feel like you’ve missed out,
But don’t worry my child
I’m still about-
I’ll always be here
I’ll always be near
Whether it be in your thoughts
Or in your heart,
I am within you
And always above you-
So never should you fear.
During times of suffering
During times of doubt,
Always keep your head up
And keep your judgment about;
For good decisions now
Will help you later when
You need good advice
And a helping hand.
Please my child,
These are the last words from a dying human;
Not only as your mother, not just as your friend
These last words are for you to keep and cherish for your
Years on end.
So good health to yo
An old and flea-ridden, mangy mutt pads
behind the muscular man with the pole-leash. The wise, old dog looks up at the
man, and wags his sorry excuse for a tail. The two know each other, they are age-old
acquaintances and now-and-then buddies. The man shakes his head and says, “Sorry old
boy, but we can’t keep this game up…besides, you’re far beyond your years of
wandering these busy streets, it’s time to settle down.” The scraggly hound
tilts his head and gives the man a soft growl, in a sort of solemn agreement.
The dog shakes his mass of matted fur and trudges forth, now in state of gloom;
he knew this place well, and by many names: The Pound, Dog Shelter, Rescue Clinic,
a Canine Refuge- all of these names meant nothing to the free-spirit but
The elderly mongrel was made wise by
years of living on the filthy, trash-strewn
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