Lectures of a Masochistic Fellowship: The Ruff Life

There lays a dog, bleeding, and barely foaming out of the mouth.
Abused by his owner, beaten, and not allowed in the house.
The owner tore down the dog house so the dog would suffer more,
But the dog just handles the abuse contrary to popular lore.
As the dog lays there, rotting into its grave,
It's owner, just subtly, calls out the dogs name.
And that dog gets up, wags its tail though defeated.
Just to walk over there and again, be beaten.
Because a mutt shows loyalty through the hardship and despair,
No matter how much the owner lacks in his care.
I am just a mutt in life, always dragged through despair,
Pretending to be happy, and pretending I don't care.
And my owner smiles at me, as it cocks back its arm.
Beating me so elegantly that I'm engulfed by its charm.
Its angelic image so much better than my abuse-torn-landscape.
My owner was sculpted for this world...
I was a mistake.
And like that mutt, once I am thrown back into the yard.
Limp and simplistic and almost distanced too far.
I hear a faint call from my animalistic abuser,
So I get up, strong hearted but beaten by the user,
This mutt crawls for minutes, with broken legs and no spark,
Trying to get to his owner,
His loyalty tore him apart...