Hour 72

They whisper "one more day"

I wait, I whine, I stare, confined to a

Bleak prison cell, then they clip on the leash and

Death's scent slithers down my throat.


A needle, just a little needle, pain is ending,

Why don't you love me anymore?

You said forever, but I'm evidently just



A nameless number in a dirty cage,

The Green Mile for me 'cause I'm not

Little and cute anymore, you said forever,

This isn't forever.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed