your life is all about what you make of it; not about what others think of it
Beaten, thrashed, at the receiving end
Of a bamboo whack
Pushed, pulled, thrown into a bin, even
Strangled, poked, gifted with
Slashes on my back
I feared the very look from a person, any person
Let alone their touch
I was fed food rolled in mud
The water I drank – muddy, soiled?
I do not know.
I know not what it feels like to be loved
I know not how it feels to just be hugged
I know not, I just don’t.
The luxury of a bed, a bath, too much to ask
Just some water, it’s too hot, I’m parched
Curled up inside a lone tunnel
I slept all night
It had begun to be my new place to hide
Alert, aware of every approaching footstep
I was aggressive towards every person I met
Until one day, a lady approached
At every touch my body shuddered
At every touch my soul quivered
At every touch I could only manage
To let out a little wail, a frail sob
She took me in
She gave me home
She gave me food
And water in a bowl
I wish that everyone understood like her
That I was only a scared little pup
Looking for someone to be my home.