These Hands ( Archived) (5)

I wrote this poem a long time ago when I was an Animal Control Officer. I loved the animals and that is one reason I had to quit. I carried the guilt of the human race on my shoulders because they did not want to spay or neuter their pets.

These Hands

These hands...
Were meant to caress your furry little face,
These hands...
Welcomes you, into this shelter, out from disgrace.
These hands...
Give you treats, upon which you feed,
These hands...
Protect you, and give you the comfort you need.
These hands...
Clean behind you, giving you a clean place to sleep,
These hands...
Number the days, measure the time, in which I keep.
These hands...
Fold and pray, in hopes one day you'll find a home,
These hands...
Stroke your soft fur, letting my presence be known.
These hands...
Carry you, taking you on your last stroll,
These hands...
Tremble and shake, come the last minutes toll.
These hands...
Take the syringe, that soon ends your life,
These hands...
Will soon end, your hardships and strife.
These hands...
Pet you with trust, letting you know it will be all right,
These hands...
Wipe away a tear, knowing I ended, your miserable plight.
These hands...
Lay you down gently, as you go limp and die,
These hands...
Stroke you with love, as I bow to cry.
These hands...
Ball into a fist, as I shake in rage,
These hands...
Release as I walk, to the next cage.
These hands...these hands...they will never give up.

I could never be an animal control person, I could never tell an animal that I can not find a home for them. so I have to put you down. no way.

You didn't read into well enough. That is why I quit. I couldn't see myself doing it again. It put me in the hospital for depression. But I did it with care as much as I love animals, someone had to do it. Or else we would be overrun with animals all over the place that wouldn't be able to have a home. It wasn't a great job, but it had to be done. Sorry you didn't like it.