James Wright is Overrated (or My Dog Has an Existential Crisis)
By: Rodolfo Perez
This is very real. My heart hurts a lot of the time.
Not because I have a condition,
But rather because I fail to express my lack of a condition.
Every morning I wake up to the sound of my master, Rising from her slumber.
She is tired,
She is not doing what she dreamed of doing.
But she gets up anyway.
I sit in bed.
I do nothing,
Yet they praise me constantly.
They give me food,
They pat my head.
But I cannot tell them how I hate it so.
For I have no voice to tell them.
Oh, Woe is me,
To be cursed in a life of unknown pity,
Where the pity is not warranted,
But pity is desired Nonetheless.
Oh, how I have wasted my life.
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