The Dog Ways

                   The Dog Ways

Curvy streets, shanty lanes,

Green trees and the freezing breeze,

Houses wreck at a sudden stretch,

Hills atop but doors never knocked,

Was a place far-far away.

Sounds of rustling leaves,

But no bustling streets;

Once a place so unoccupied,

Seems like a deserted hut,

With roads rarely trot by,

Sounds of howling dogs heard nearby.

With a pale skin and an empty stomach,

Hunger gleaming in the eyes,

Is there no one to hear the dog cries?

Laying astray all day, avenging death,

The dogs are to be pitied upon,

As there is no one for them to care on.

The rich settled in big bungalows,

Are never to hear their cries,

For food available in plenty and for them to survive,

Why would they ever wry?

Somebody passing by, dropped a bit of bread,

And there ran the hungry dogs,

Quarreling for a piece,

Thus tittering all small bits.

Perhaps they have not got a word to speak,

But they too have an air to breathe.

So should we not even once,

Have a look and serve these poor creatures?

For objects found to be abound,

And money enough to be spent,

A bit will not cost you much,

To care for these creatures as such,

and it is finally for we to judge!

- Shivani Priyam