I Was Born Into a World That Never Wanted Me
I don’t remember much about the day I was born.
Only coldness.
Hunger.
And the feeling of being left behind.
The other puppies were picked up first. Humans smiled at them, touched their soft fur, and carried them away in warm arms.
But nobody chose me.
Maybe it was because my eyes never looked normal.
Maybe it was because I could not see the world the way other dogs could.
I only remember hearing footsteps slowly disappear one by one… until I was alone.
Ever since that day, I’ve wandered through life without a home, without love… and without even a name.
The World Feels Dark Even During Daylight
I am a small yellow dog with messy fur that’s no longer soft anymore.
People say my eyes look strange.
Cloudy.
Empty.
Broken.
I cannot see faces clearly, only shadows and moving lights. Sometimes I walk into walls. Sometimes people laugh when they see me stumble across the streets searching for scraps of food.
I pretend not to care.
But deep inside… it hurts.
Because maybe they’re right.
Maybe I really am ugly.
Leftovers Became My Only Way to Survive
Most days, I survive by eating whatever people throw away.
Cold rice beside garbage bins.
Rotten food left near drains.
Sometimes I’m lucky enough to find tiny pieces of meat inside plastic bags people toss onto the street.
Other stray dogs chase me away often because I cannot see well enough to protect myself.
When it rains, my fur becomes soaked and heavy, and I curl beside walls trying not to shiver too loudly.
I watch people walking home with their pets in warm arms while I stay hidden in the dark so nobody notices me.
Because animals like me are easy to ignore.
I’ve Always Wondered What Love Feels Like
Sometimes I dream about something I’ve never truly had.
A home.
A soft blanket.
Someone gently calling my name.
I imagine what it would feel like if one person sat beside me and said:
“You’re safe now.”
I think that would be enough to make me cry.
Not because I’m weak…
But because no one has ever made me feel important before.
Maybe That’s Why I Still Wait
Even after everything, I still wait near busy streets sometimes.
Not for food.
Not for leftovers.
But for kindness.
For one human willing to stop walking long enough to notice the blind little yellow dog sitting quietly alone.
Maybe someone out there could still love a dog like me.
Maybe someone could still see beauty inside a broken animal.
And maybe… someone could finally give me a name.
Because after all this time…
I still don’t have one.
