Why Do That?

I think of my pets,

and wonder what is wrong

with some people.

My first dog,

was a graduation gift

for my mom.

The dog's name,


my uncle found her

abandon in a swamp,

fur matted,


and sickly.

My next dog,

a beagle,

given to us the day after Christmas,

was found on the side

of a highway,

in a cardboard box.

She now fears


 Then my next dog,

left on the steps of a

shelter as a pup.

What is wrong with some people?

I have seen poor,

young animals

that resembled skeletons,

some beaten severly,

some looking like they could

just give up.

So really,

Why do that,

to an animal that will treat you kindly

if you do the  same?


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741