Tuesday, June 26, 2012

the backyard


The backyard full of rubbish
The running dogs never go to lick
It is beneath their station of lives
They are the thorough breeds

When they bark
The lopsided venom it causes
The backyard of its own
They forget how it looks

The running dogs of many sizes
They have their own agenda and profiles
They don't collect their bad habits
They expect others to do it

They sing the same song
They say the same thing all over again
When ask have they opened their backdoors?
They can't give a straight answer

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