When you’re not here

A dusty front camera, so bored – it’s sick,

It has no use, no purpose – for my eyes can click.

I scroll through my mind’s eye and admire every picture,

You probably miss the best of me when you’re not here.

The Master pets me for he knows I’ve been a good boy,

I stare up at Him expectantly as he dangles a new toy.

He asks me to chase and play but I don’t even go near,

I can live without temptation when you’re not here.

I walk down the red carpet and revise the speech in my head,

My decisions warrant an award; with praise I should be fed.

I won’t survive long if this audience fills me with regret and fear,

Alone in this burning spotlight I stand – when you’re not here.

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