Oh, my hopes and dreams!
As I rushed my dinner of baked beans!
I rush to the pound door,
There I sit and ponder.
Shall it be blue? Shall it be green?
Shall it be big or small, nice or mean?
Eight more minutes to go...
Lots of members gather at this show.
I rush in, and scan the cages,
I know I don't have ages.
I see the one, huddled in a crate
And so I take him, his tag and the date.
With red fur, and beautiful swirls
I have the most perfect pet,
from out of this very world...
This poem about the pound is by Kitty Lion (#652555) :)