The Dog at the End of the Road
By Connor F
Published 1 September 2016
There is a house at the end of the street
Where lots of old people like to meet
At the back of the old house there is a guard
The protector of the old house's yard
You can enter unless it hears the patter of your feet
If he senses you, you should run
Or he will chase you down just for some fun
If he catches you he will lick your face
So you shouldn't look back and pick up the pace
You have no chance just give up you're done
When you stop you will not die
You will wish you have wings and that you could fly
As you are on your knees daydreaming
You open your eyes and are welcomed by some eyes gleaming
You quietly whisper "Oh my, oh my"
"She doesn't bite" says a voice from behind
"She is actually very gentle and kind"
He is an older man with long sleeves and long pants
Then you here his old person rants
I asked if I could leave, if you don't mind
He says "You can leave if you want"
I leave the house in a whole different font
I come back in one year
As I arrive I shed one tear
There is the old man but no little runt
I look around I see nothing there
I realise what happened I could not bear
I ask wear is the dog?
He says "she is shrouded in fog"
I understand but speak I don't dare
There is a house at the end of the street
Where lots of old people like to meet
At the back of the house there is a yard
In that house there is a new puppy guard
This guard I'd like to keep.