Her Puppy

He was like her puppy.
She had him on a leash.
She issued him orders.
He obeyed them.
She was so beautiful
He couldn’t risk losing her.
So he did what she said,
Even though he knew he’d become
Subservient and emasculated
And no longer a real man.
He often wished he had the guts
To stand up to her and say no.
But she was too beautiful to defy.
So he kept being her puppy
Until she found a new pet.

Bob Boyd

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Author: BobBoyd

Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri? 79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride my exercise bike 2 hours daily. Began writing poetry October 2023, living in Greensboro, North Carolina, originally from just outside of Boston, MA. Retired and enjoying a solo, reclusive life always researching and gaining knowledge. Most of my poems are fictional. I write about many things: Spirituality, Mysticism, the Paranormal, Cryptids, Werewolves, Ghosts, 411s, Nature, Birds, Animals, Romantic Love, Death, NDEs, Women Persecuted as Witches, Fictional Characters I Create, News Stories, AI, Robots, Insects, like the poem entitled, Hail Caesar Bob, (about when bees were swarming me outside the door to my apartment), and many other topics. I write a minimum of 3 poems daily, sometimes more.

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