Torn away fae, the heat, and light,
Dragged tae the cauld, dark, dessolate night.
Soul destroyed, eyes sore and worn,
Too defeated toe even manage scorn.
Led again tae the evenings blight,
No even able tae muster up a fight.
Staggering aimlessly, completely shagged,
Desperately wanting tae git it bagged.
Pushing onwards wae aww ma might,
On empty streets I must be some sight.
Hopefully we’ll be done by the next pole,
Staring desperately at the dug’s arse hole.
The feeling of relief, of absolute delight.
When the wee bastard finally does a shite.
Cock of the leg or a squat tae poo.
I really hate taking the mutt tae the loo.