The Grim Reaper Poem by Josette Lager

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