Pomsky
I find my bed and drift to sleep.
I shut my eyes like curtains closing.
I’m a bacon-stealer, people-biter.
I guard my bed like a lion’s den.
I’ll stroll around the house
And bark at passerby’s.
I’ll slip through the gate, silent as a mouse
I’ll crawl upstairs, not making a sound
And hide, waiting to be found.
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