Categories
Poetry

Bette

Exiled from this space,

With its miles of convenience.

Processed-food dreams

Spin in her brain.

Late to the race,

She never stood a chance.

Laughter atop screams

As she slips down the drain.

© 2021 Jeff E. Brown. All rights reserved.

By jebrownwriter

Houston, TX-based Writer and Photographer. Proud pet rescuer who spends nearly all his money on them.

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