Beast of Burden

The few days of rest are savored  
Though most day don't go like I want them to
That is the problem with being a mule
I am a tool to be used
Hitched to a plow to furrow a field
Or a cart to carry a heavy load into town
Or loaded down with bags, packs, and supplies
To slowly trod the narrow path up the mountain
At the end of each day lead to the paddock
Fed a bit of grain as I stand there surrounded by dung
Eventually I'll get some fresh straw to lie upon
But the dog is cherished
He gets to go inside the house to sleep by the fire
He gets treats and table scraps and petted and rubbed and played with
While I stand in my stall and dream of running freely in the pasture
Bucking and kicking up my heels
Eating apples from the tree and grazing as the sun warms my back
But I am a mule, a beast of burden
I must accept my role and resign myself to a life of service
But if Balaam ever decides to hit me with his staff
Then, well then, rest assured I'll give him a piece of my mind  
Written by Seed
Author's Note
We must all accept our lot in life, pick up our cross and trudge on without resentment. We are who we are.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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runaway-mindtrain Bluevelvete Adelphina
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