d – dog
           h – human
           b - both

1. d. There’s a glazed happiness in your eyes
that I can’t explain
that I can’t understand
        Your face is in the sand
        You’ve forgotten how to beg
        Your souls are torn and tough
        Any weakness in the eyes means no food today

2.h. There is no happiness in your eyes today
                      Happiness means contentment,
                      contentment means don't feed me, I'm fine
       I look at you, with your cold flannel
       I try to pretend I’m cold too
       I hide my flip-flops and I-pod
       Because, in my self righteousness,
I think I’m embarrassing you

3. b. Because we are the children of God
                        We see you through our kennels,
                        we mobilize our tears
                        We’ll be found in the tunnels,
                        we’ll contradict our fears

4.d. I was going to change you, somehow
        Like walking you would make the memory of being beaten (I see it in your eyes) go away
        If your panting and your smiling weren’t so similar,
        I’d know if I was doing the right thing

5.h. I’m always critiquing unspoken taboos of racism,
        when I look at the color ratio of the streets
        I try to remember that I’m not looking at white
        I’m not looking at black
        I’m looking at grey, the same grey flannel shirt that once matched my own wealth

               And I’m feeding this gray, this blur, this bottle of smudgy misfortune
               accompanied, of course, by the grey morning that I monthly attend
        My lack of sleep tells me I’m wasting my time, that I could go back to bed.
        My compassion tells my tiredness it’s wrong, and that it grows every visit.

6. b. Because you are the children of God
                        You see us in kennels,
                        you witness our tears
                        You’ll find us in tunnels,
                        you’ll sympathize our fears

7.d. I look at you, with your frayed collar
        I try to pretend someone called me
        I stick my fingers through your cozy dreaming prison
        I let you remind me what it’s like to be cornered
                                               to be alone
                                       to be responsible for  someone other then me
I know your feet can’t travel where your mind can
But still, you’ll dream.
                        Relentlessly.

8.h. You know you’re worth something – you just don’t know what.
        I know you share the same cage with the homeless dog
        your eyes tell me before I can politely nod hello
               Tomorrow’s sun is cultivating a field of hope (is what I’d like to say)
               But you just run your un-amused hands through your cold hair
                       and grimace over the cracks of your moon-speckled face
I get a weird urge to apologize for being better off.

9. I am a child of God
                        I see the dog in his kennel,
                        and yes, I witness his tears
                        I find the man in his tunnel,
                        and yes, I sympathize his fears

                              The man and the dog look at each other
                               Their eyes bear the same reflection
                               And neither can help but speculate.

                                             What happened?