To a dog dying of cancer

Your thin white frame is cold

Pressed against my belly for warmth

Your body is wracked with shivers

Our differences aside I begin thinking:


If I were a cure I’d let you have me”

I see the fear in your wide eyes and

I know how you’re feeling

So I smile and whisper, stroking your white hair


Unable to find the words to say

I just hum and hope you’ll be ok

When we both know

That chance is Slipping.

The End

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