A doggy door

As a security guard,

I am nothing more,

Than a glorified doorman,

One who watches the comings and goings,

Of the client’s building.

Over time, 

I feel more like I am watching packs of dogs,

Like pet dogs,

Not feral street dogs,

For every person becomes recognized,

Yet their names are unknown,

Unless they are pedigrees worth knowing,

Yet each one must be watched,

And none can come or go without being watched.

I suppose that is why I am reminded of dogs,

For dogs need permission to go outside,

And to come back in,

Under the ever watchful eye of their master,

They are told to go, 

And to come,

Sometimes they are pushed out,

And dragged back in,

I am a security guard,

And people act like dogs.