A dog sits waiting in the cold autumn sun

Too faithful to leave, too frightened to run.

He’s been here for days now, with nothing to do

But sit by the road, Waiting for you.

He can't understand why you left him that day.

He thought you and he were stopping to play.

He’s sure you'll come back, and that’s why he stays.

How long will he suffer?  How many more days?

His legs have grown weak now; his throat’s parched dry.

He’s sick from the hunger, and falls with a sigh.

He lays down his head and closes his eyes.

I wish you could see

How a waiting dog dies.