I found this poem on a piece of scrap paper today while digging through the garbage, and I thought I’d share it with you. I know my master wrote it, but I don’t know why he threw it away. I guess you shouldn’t mention it to him if you see him… uhm, and leave out the part about me getting into the garbage, too, okay? Thanks!My bleeding heart makes scarlet snow in winter and crimson mud in spring. My bleeding heart streams sanguine from its center and neither beats nor sings. My bleeding heart remembers all last summer and every drop of fall. My bleeding heart aches for rest and slumber and needs familiar walls. My bleeding heart weeps in silence while it grows and wasn’t meant to roam. My bleeding heart seeks soil that it knows and wants to go back home.
How many human visted?
- 55,386 humans visited
Which of my posts are the humans reading the most?
So, what’s a 3-legged rescue dog blog about?