Brazuca, a bulldog
Whose drool begins to sog
Tiny, wet droplets beading out of longer ones
Coated with a foul liquid; down, it runs
Brazuca often walks in a squatted, steady gait
At a quickening rate
White fur, with tints of tan
The tan running across his body; as much as it can
Despite being small, Brazuca can jump high
As if he were a frog catching a fly
He knocks over, zapping his legs
With an exurbant power; same as when he sits and begs
His face resembles a garbage truck
Chomping and grinding until food gets stuck
A flapping, sagging muzzle; along with soft whiskers
Touching softly like whispers
A round, black nose; to sniff
Attempting on taking a whiff
Of tints of smelly odor
Calculating; as if his nose were a decoder
Breathing hard, treading steady
Brazuca walks on; his body always smelly!