This poem isn't about me, oddly enough. In a way it is because it hit home with me on how I felt in a certain relationship and home life earlier on in the years however this poem is to my mother. From years back you all remember my emo poems about my mom's abuse but it wasn't really abuse. She was the abused one. I get so sad looking at her old pictures because I realize she was the dog that got beat all of the time. Even if it had to be my hero who did it to her - I owe her alot. Now I see happiness in her eyes and it's like seeing a "abused stray" finding a good home. It's beautiful. I love my mom and this is for her and anyone else who had to go through what she has<3 The Stray. How long before it begins, when a dog gets beat? Does he wake up one morning bruised and exhausted, and not even so much spit on you before he leaves? The world may never know, if it does..It'll never tell. It'll never tell of your shame of you beating and beating, until that person you've hurt becomes someone else. How I feel for that creature. The one no one knows because there are more than two ways to break person in ways that always seem to stay but never shows. You can see it in it's eyes as it walks down the street, Looking for an answer or a home out there in the distance. Wearing a stance of a heavy weight and constant defeats. You always thought he'd hang around for your own benefit. there to recieve a kick for all your brokenhearts and dreams. But someday his shoulders will rise again and he will drift. He will find a home. He will find a place where he belongs. His eyes will brighten, His voice will lighten, No more fighting. And you will have to admit to yourself you were always wrong. That dog will day will have it's day, and you won't even be able to recognize his face.