Charlie's time is running out
he's locked up in the pound,
his owner, no where to be found.
I hate that place it smells of death,
please give Charlie a home before
he takes his last breath.
I cried one day as I walked down
dog death row, so right then and
there I made myself a vow to never
enter death's gate again.So I left
my sickel at the reaper's door,
please help Charlie before he is
no more.
Josette Marie Louise Lager
Copyright@2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem