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

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, retired and enjoying a reclusive, solo, ever seeking knowledge life.

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