Ode to Roadkill

A NOTE: This is dredged all the way from my sophomore year! I wasn't much of a poet at the time... perhaps my earlier works are some indication. Then again, I'm not posting the crappiest ones.

Poor dog who lies beside the road what irony to die on the road you chased such trucks upon! Oh, for but a moment you were the hunter but then you became the accident Alas, oh mutt, thy breathing is shallow. To think of the golden moments of your life so simple compared to a human's golden moments walks every day, eating leftovers, to see it pass before your colorblind eyes. A look of such innocence as you die of utter simplicity, wondering what hit you the pain slowly edges off your muzzle. And so you lie dead as so many before you have lain and so many after shall the soul drifts to heaven, never having done wrong. Mark Burton 3/17/99, 9:59 P.M.