O God, Sometimes, I think, You are a child, Who scatters the stars, Across the fields of sky, In the night. Then, one by one, gather them all, by morn and put them in a bag, Which shines forth and becomes Sun And you carry the bag, From East to West Never you seem, Tired or bored. You never seem to care, What others think You are stoic, You are eternal, You are benevolent, You never cease, to surprise.
Bruno was my real friend. Whether I cared or not, He was never angry, Like the human beings , when ignored. He will meet me, Lick me, jump stand on his hind legs, Whenever I came. Whenever I was sad, He will sneak silently, near me and put his head, In my lap or on my chest, And suck away all my sorrows. Now he is gone, left me weeping.