Foxy

The fiery fox has been with me,
Times in the past, and times to be.
He comforts and helps, yells and yelps,
But he always means a lot to me.

His face as innocent as a bird's,
His shoes as black as night sky,
His body as red as desert dust,
His appearance enveloped in passion's crust.

The company we choose is that of each other,
It is just like he is my much-loved brother.
Foxy is happiness, Foxy is love,
His presence is pure, like that of a dove.

I have lost him, he has left me,
I have heard him, crying for me.
Up in the gutters, under the couch
He has even been left at my grandparent's house

The fiery fox has been with me,
Times in the past, and times to be.
He comforts and helps, yells and yelps,
But he always means a lot to me.