I have a Master
we don't have a home...
we wander through town
he calls us "rolling stones"..
People call him crazy
they can be so cruel...
some people call him lazy...
this is so untrue...
My master is a Veteran
he was a prisoner of war
now he's just forgotten
but that's what he's got me for.
Some nights we go hungry
Some nights we are cold
but my master does his best
even if he's kinda old...
I help him search the garbage cans
for our daily meal....
and a place to rest our heads....
a cardboard box is our best deal....
and when tomorrow morning comes
and the policemen kick us out...
at least we have eachother...
For that is never a doubt.
written by Savana Frame
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