These are some of our favorite poems about greyhounds and the cruelty of dog racing. If you have written a poem that you would like to share, please submit it to us at poems@grey2kusaedu.org


Ten thousand and one greyhounds

10,000 dogs came my way
to greet me on my dying day
they like me were greyhounds too
they like me no longer “flew”

We were the shame, the secret they hid
the injured, the old, those that needed to be got rid.
As they watched my spine break in two
those 10,000 dogs watched, they all knew

Still its “years on now it’s a different game”
is it really or just a different dog and name?
Now it’s all contracts and screening live
an industry well versed in the art to contrive

So round and round their damn tracks we go
we love it apparently don’t you know?
well anything’s better than sat all day in a cage
with muzzles on our faces to prevent us from rage

There’s “commitments to rehome” and talk of “bookmakers resources”
but still no attempt to address the dangerous courses
Every day we are captive to our skill
who would think the fact we can run fast could cause us such ill?

Still there’s money to be made
and we’re a product that’s cheap
sometimes when we die they might even weep
but their tears will quickly dry and the next dog will come
and they’ll talk in awe of how fast that one can run.

Shallow humanity if that is all you can see
Judged on my speed to go from A to B
You haven’t begun to see the real value of me
Nor will you do so until from you I am free

We’re here now well away from your greed
And we will run at our own chosen God given speed
Be careful humanity as you reap what you sew
those who exploit us have much left to know

You will remain ignorant of our greatest skill yet
which is to give unconditional love, not to win you a bet

In memory of Rotar Wing , Clash Nitro & Rent a Flyer and the estimated 10,000 dogs destroyed at Seaham together with the thousands of greyhounds lives taken since as a result of a callous greyhound racing industry.

Copyright Aileen Ward 2020 for Greyt Exploitations


Greyhounds

Where do I begin With this beautiful breed Long legged and noble
Built for great speed

A rainbow of colors Fawn, red and blue Brindles of all shades Which one is for you?

Such gorgeous eyes Alert yet so calm Watching and waiting For the treat in your palm

And oh those big ears That I love to rub
Soft as a down feather From the tip to the nub

Personalities all vary From active to laid back They run and they play And then hit the sack

Boy, can they sleep I'm retired, they say I have nothing to do So eight naps a day

They love their toys But they love us more They follow us always With eyes that adore

Cherish your hound Each one is a gift Their love is so special
You don't want to miss.

Copyright 2012 Bobbi Dilling


Save Me

Would someone please save me From this life that I lead
A life full of strife To satisfy greed

I live in a cage
In which, I cannot stand Crammed up against others So short, our life span

I’m always hungry My body’s in pain
I don’t feel like running For monetary gain

Would someone please save me The men here don’t care
I’m a thing in their eyes So distant, their stare

I’m tired of needles That make me feel strange
My bed is so dirty
I wish they would change

I’m tired of hurting
Of being hungry and sore Of running and falling So I can ache more

Would someone please save me And get me out of this place
My end is soon coming God grant me Your grace

I’ve heard there are people Who actually love dogs like me I wish I could meet them
Oh well, wait and see

What happens from here Depends upon you
I can’t save myself That much is true

My life will not change Unless you intervene You can give me a home With a yard that is green.

Copyright 2012 Bobbi Dilling


Spirit

The most beautiful sight That you'll ever see
Is a rescued greyhound Playing and free

No longer a prisoner Locked in a cage
Now joyous and playful A dancer on stage

No hungry nights No longer afraid
Someone now loves them And came to their aid

No painful injections No broken bones Now sleeping soundly
On a big bed of their own.

No more trying to please To receive only pain Now part of a family With everything to gain

These gorgeous dogs Once treated so badly
Are the most loving members Of their new family

The love that they give Is honest and true
If you are deserving They give it to you.

If you have a chance To have one of your own
Love them and cherish them Give them a home.

In honor of Spirit, a greyhound who was left injured and abandoned behind a warehouse after her racing days were over.

Copyright 2012 Bobbi Dilling


The Race

As I look upon row and row of cages
My heart aches for nothing has changed throughout the ages

I know these poor dogs will soon be racing around the track No matter what color, red, white, brindle or black …

How can we keep on doing this to man's best friend?
Will this misery ever come to an end?

So for these greyhounds, please do whatever you can
And soon these precious dogs will never have to race around a track again.

Copyright 2012 Lynda Iannuccilli


Exploding Through the Gate


With beauty and grace they explode through the gate They have no idea this determines their fate
The spectators watch as the "Grey's" round the bend The favorite is leading, he'll certainly win
No one seems to notice the "Grey" falling back First, fifth, then seventh, then last on the track.
The trainer will come and take him away This dog ran with courage, he shattered his leg
The crowd shows no care there are more races to see There is no second thought to what his fate will be
No thought will be given to repairing his bone No owner will come to give him a good home
This Greyhound's mother and father's fate was the same They just like him could no longer win at this game
There are thousands of greyhound's who's lives end the same They were injured or slow or could not be trained
Their lives had just started and met an abrupt end Their owner does not care there are thousands more to send
They run for their owner, They run to get love For this they are killed by their owners own glove

Copyright 2011 Mark A. Wilcox


It's a Sad Day

It’s just another day for racing greyhounds Running from what they cannot see Running towards what’s so elusive
To the day when they are free

Their fate has been decided By those who cast their vote
Greyhound racing won’t be decoupled The dogs have missed the boat

Humans need to see the suffering here Demand the truth with no more lies Make those in charge responsible When yet another greyhound dies

It’s a struggle to survive in this place To lose here may mean death
One moment straining hard to please The next one their last breath

Time has been no friend to them Dogs once so noble and so proud Companions to both kings and queens Their world has turned around

We have betrayed the greyhound Yet they graciously accept their lot in life
So stoic in their hopelessness Born to hunger, pain and strife

It seems each time we hope to change Old ideas and outdated ways
The world disappoints once again Yet we’ll fight another day

It's a sad, sad day for greyhounds Another day like many others
It's a sad, sad day for greyhounds Death for many of their brothers

With no end to their suffering yet in sight And humans who continue to ignore their plight
It's no mystery why they run so fast
They run from their future, they run from their past

Copyright 2011 Cyndi Rennick


Beauregard

Swift muscular courser of old, Dark-eyed, deep-chested, long-tailed
Egyptian hunter of stags.
What quarry titillates your dreams, You aristocratic soul of ancient Pharaohs, English and gentle lords?
What gifts did you bestow?

With Coronado did you roam. In ancient tombs etchings show.
Did Shakespeare, Chaucer really know?
A friend, beside Von Steuben At Valley Forge was seen.
At Big Horn River your presence felt As Custer breathed his last.

And here today with me you are.
Brindled soul whose love Beyond measure is. Orphaned! Spared of death, to live anew.
Never to course for sport - but love. Run at gun no longer calls you.
No Forest Laws I’ll heed.

No Smith’s mechanical lures to chase, For time has come to end the race.
To learn to be, to live, to love.
And teach I will, and you the same And both remain, forever friends.
Every second you with me, Until the end...until I cease to be.

Copyright 2009 Ben Ortiz


Blood Sport (A greyhound’s last words)

"I lie on my side. I am dying.
A female blue-brindle greyhound, Living to run.
Speed was my gift from the gods. The gift, a headlong dash to death.
Once I dreamed of running in an open field.
No muzzle, no pain, running freely.
I am in a field now.
Eighteen acres of death.
The bullet was meant for my brain. To be a quick death. Painless. The bullet entered my neck.
The pain rages… when will it end?
Will there be another bullet to speed my death?
No. Bullets are not to be wasted on dogs.
We were dollar signs Hurtling down the track. Together a flash of colors:
Brindle, blue, black, red, white, fawn.
I was too slow to last.
Too slow to make it to age two.
A throw-away life.
When death comes I will not be alone. There are scores of us. Thousands. Brindle, blue, black, red, white, fawn. We, who never knew an open field, Have found our own field.
It is soaked with our blood.
Once I dreamed of being held in someone’s arms.
Caressed, petted, loved.
All dreams are ended now in this field.
The darkness is taking me over.
Lime is thrown on my defeated, discarded body.
My heart howls out ... Let my dying matter,
Let my dying be the last.
The light dims out.
Remember, remember, remember."

Copyright 2002 Juliet Law Packer


Plight of the Greyhound

Let’s hear it for the Greyhound Ancient breed of canine friend. Immured inside each dog track,
Running for your life around each bend.
Confined in cages, when you’re not running; Always giving us your all.
Without a touch of human kindness, With no love for you at all.

Hairpin turns and cold steel cages, Concealing well your rightful rages.
Pain and exploitation, coming from the greed of Man.
Running always running, to stay alive if you can. ’Twas ever thus, my sweet companion
Ever since the game began.
No wasted food, if you should slow down, Starvation being your award.
Living is only for the winner Death, if you should lose is your reward.

I rescued you from dying
To show the world that you have worth.
I am honored by your friendship, You fill my life with silent mirth. A breed of dog, so very gentle
With noble bearing and quiet grace.
Every day, I’m glad I know you, I see God’s image in your face.

Copyright 2002 Benita LoCastro Smith


Trusting Eyes

I’m paralyzed
my soul frozen in an Eternal Instant In a vision I cannot get out of my mind
I must ease its hold by sharing its demand This vision demands to be acknowledged to be screamed out
It is the vision of a dog’s Trusting Eyes, while a shell of a man finishes his life.
Those trusting eyes are, somehow, now looking at me, they plead please, do something

Copyright 2002 Rebeca Dugan


Ever Faithful Servant


The footsteps walking down the hall My heart does pound I feel so small He’s coming near
My cage I fear
And nowhere for me to hide at all

It seems so long for him to be Standing finally over me
His downward gaze His eyes ablaze
Be this the final sight I see?

His foot now wrenched into my side I cannot move; it hurts to cry
His griping hands My pulsing glands
Hope of tomorrow be denied

Out of here and in the truck I’m quickly running out of luck The bumpy ride
It’s hot inside
Because I couldn’t make a buck

Who knows what will become of me But the business cannot run for free A faster pace
To take my place Race me till I die for thee

Just another scratch upon the list Of greys who’ve gave their lives for this
Replaced with haste It seems a waste
My life for your eternal bliss

Copyright 2001 Lynn Kargol


Free At Last

Racing days are over Thought the pain would go away But soon I learned a different fate
Was headed straight my way He reached his hands into my cage
And pushed me out once more I glanced at all my weary friends
As he lead me out the door
It hurts to walk; it hurts to stand Been through all I could endure But all my pains are nothing that Somebody’s love could not cure I’m pushed against a concrete wall And know I’ve failed the test
He said I wasn’t fast enough And reached into his vest
I close my eyes and cower As I shake, my senses dull
Then I feel the barrel of a gun Against my skull
Isn’t there a better way to entertain a crowd?
But my thoughts are interrupted By a noise so hard and loud
I’m just another failure Racing to my final day
And sometimes all the winners Will lose a race someday They call it an "exciting sport" They say that it’s humane
But a sport that always ends in death To me, is not a game

Copyright 2001 Lynn Kargol

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