My puppies may be racist.
The white ones,
Do not sleep with the black one.
But, being the first out,
I'd say it's the black one,
Not sleeping with them.
Dogs see in black and white and grey,
And never notice,
The different shades.
You have to be human, to be racist,
Basing hundreds of years of slavery, murder and hate
On something as meaningless as color.
With puppies,
It’s a pack thing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good, Sandra. Love & hugs, Barbara