The sun was shining through late evening clouds-
My little dog named Misty was strutting along-
Ever-so gleeful-
Mud dappled her paws.
People were staring-
Insecure I felt-
All were judging me.
Their stares projecting-
Silent words of judgement-
Reciting-
This young lass with her dog in hand-
A rebel she be-
For no mask be upon her face.
My stomach twisting-
Palms are sweating-
If only they knew-
I have Asthma-
A consistent struggle to breath.
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Like a short film . Well put. Good story
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