Written in memory of the black and white cat, that died from a seizure. This is due to back yard breeders. She was a kitten of 5 weeks, her mother ran away. The breeders I’m getting free-spay vouchers from to fix their cats.
Fore this night, a howling curse
She will not go silently —
Death lies doormat at her heart
At least she won’t go violently.
Her pulse shakes the world,
With such agony —
This final hour of her life,
As she turns a thick ebony.
On her legs, last place to fall
The useless sound of crying —
The sting of fear,
In her brief time of dying.
She ask “why do people kill us?”
Remember me, you that has heart
God, turn me into the angel I want to be
Forget me not, even as I depart.
The terror is over,
Her spirit lingers guarding —
The isolated room,
Where life once stood.
This is another tidbit of exotic Americana; the world of private zoos, exotic cats and…
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