conditioned to flinch and run
with my tail between my legs;
wanting to head for the fields.
But I yield to insecurities.
Someone needs to clean
the pipe of resin choking me
coax me slowly, to hit
from blades of wheat grass;
cleanse the toxins from my past.
My heart is not obedient
yet I sit and stay and beg.
Residual negativity paralyzed
my individuality.
I'm not a canine champion
I'm meant to be a mix;
a creation of my own,
under the influence of me.
I learned to speak
but my barking ceased.
Only when I hit the grass
can I roll and play and revel,
chasing tails, pleasing no one,
wagging freely.
© 2008
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