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.
YOU ARE READING
Poems that Invade my humble mind
PoetryA place where I can put my thoughts onto a physical thing.