A beautiful poem for our beloved Pitbulls by Allyson Ogston August 20 2013


Pitbulls do cry, but their tears we don’t know
Pitbulls feel pain that they’re built not to show
They look vicious and mean, we hack off their ears
We do all that we can to maintain human fears
We beat them, mistreat them, we say “can’t you see”
“This dog is a killer, I want one for me”
We fight them and beat them ‘till all that is left
Is a basket, a casket, skin and bones, bereft,
A soul in a hole, spirit broken and bowed
A heart of a fighter, oh man are you proud?
People run on the street, see that dog?
They retreat.
Don’t touch it, don’t love it, don’t go near it my dear
That dog is a killer!
Our shame is our fear
For we make them that way
By abuse every day
Oh man, are you proud
Say it now, say it loud
I am man, I am king
I must take this proud thing
And break it, and shake it, and stand like a god
I have broken this Pitbull, and it should be shot
I have taken its nature, its spirit, its heart
I am man, I am god, this is only the start
Pitbulls do cry, they cry tears in the night
Where no one can see them, we think it’s alright
We have questions to answer, oh make no mistake
When we cross over, we’ll stand at the Gate
And say please let me in, i was honest and good
I lived a nice life, though my heart was like wood
Like dead dying driftwood, discoloured and sad
Did I say all Pitbulls were wicked and bad?
Our egos are fed, we are stupid and mean
Our footprints are craters, our sins were unseen
But the circle it turns, sometimes too slow
But I stand on the Word that it turns, this I know
You know who you are, you know what you’ve done
And perhaps at the time, you thought it was fun
But deep in your heart, you can see the black hole
When you kicked and you hit and you broke someone’s soul
Pitbulls do cry, and their tears aren’t in vain
They mark you and burn you, you’re left with a stain
The angels will see it, it blackens your heart
You won’t get to heaven, you fucked up your part
When you beat them and kicked them, made up a story
That Pitbulls are killers, and this was your glory?
When you get up to heaven and stand at the Gate
My friend, I am sorry, for you, it’s too late
Because Pitbulls do cry, tears that rip angels wings
They are stored in a box with sad broken things
They are counted, collected and kept in a place
Where you will be judged, and you will face
The coward you were when you walked on this land
With a smirk on your face and stick in your hand
Pitbulls do cry, they cry in the night
Their sadness is noticed, can we make it right?
But for you my good man, and you know who you are
Before you inflict even one more mean scar......
It’s a long road that follows, remember this well
You’ll relive your own nightmares on your way down to hell."

----Allyson Ogston, for our Angel Bernice----