Susan the Cat

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Your fur is as black as the feathers of a raven,

A flexible body and tail, pushing against my calf,

And it's the food you ask for, whether you yowl or barely say a word, I'm there.

It's the outside, my attention, the room behind a closed door.

It's uncommon for you to ask for the warm arms of a person that loves you, just their hands.

A feline named by chance, a bossy cat with a not-so-lucky start,

My cat may be living in paradise, but I am living with a broken heart.

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