Final Day in Doggy Prison | Teen Ink

Final Day in Doggy Prison

May 19, 2016
By el1th3gam3r SILVER, Glenpool, OK, Oklahoma
el1th3gam3r SILVER, Glenpool, OK, Oklahoma
6 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Final Day in Doggy Prison

 

The final day in doggy prison,
only two dogs left.
Yorkster was the first dog,
Nofer was the next.
They weren’t taken before,
until a person came by.
He had to pick quickly, for
the building needed to say bye.

The person looked at both of them,
deciding by length of fur.
His option was in the name,
he ended up picking Nofer.
Now lonely at the jail,
no one to pick him.
Yorkster can’t pay bail,
unless there’s another person.

“What will happen now?”
asked Yorkster.
“Out the window, where the cat meow?
Goodbye to all my fur.
Nowhere to go,
nowhere to sleep.
Can’t form meowing foes,
or have an owner to keep.

No one to play with,
no where to have fun.
My existence will be a myth,
my life an illusion.
No one will remember me,
nor know I exist.
Long forgotten story,
covered in mist.

Will anyone come?
I’ll be a pet!
Willing to have fame,
or forever be in debt.
Yorkster was desperate,
desperate to have a good life.
But not to exit,
into the wildlife.

Later that night, when
the place was shutting down,
a guy named Ben,
came in with a frown.
“Ahh, poor Yorkster,
no one picked you.
But your life won’t be a blur,
all I hope is that I will do.

Filled with joy,
the dog licked the boy.
Ben gave him a toy,
which Yorkster had to destroy.
“Everywhere to go,
anywhere to sleep!
I can form meowing foes,
and have an owner to keep!

Everyone to play with,
everywhere to have fun!
My existance won’t be a myth,
nor an illusion!
Everyone will know me,
knowing I exist!
Long forgotten story?
Not with who I’m with!

Yorkster felt like,
the happiest dog alive.
Following Ben on his bike,
“I’ll live and I’ll thrive!”
I’ll get fed,
I’ll get a bed!
Maybe I’ll see Ben sneaking bread.
“My life will be awesome,” Yorkster said.

That’s the story of Yorkster,
who happily lived his life.
His life wasn’t a blur,
nor in the wildlife.
Nofer had a good life, too,
except everything he would chew.
He would try to eat old stew,
but people would tell him “Shoo!”


The author's comments:

"Goodbye to all my fur." That's the kind of stuff you put when you need to rhyme, and you're desperate. But I liked writing this. I hope that you will be able to identify lonely dogs now.


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