She's down there, crying again.
She knows what she can do to help herself
But she just wants to cry
They get louder, then softer
Boldly, then sadly
No matter the sound, the purpose is the same
She's desperate, wailing, waiting
When you try to help it only makes her louder
You want the cries to stop
She won't stop until the day she dies
You want to hear her cry again more than anything in the world.
My cat meows a lot a night.
In case you're wondering, she has recently died. I miss her meowing now. I wrote this a couple months before she died, and I guess I was right about that last line.
YOU ARE READING
An introduction to my mind
PoetryI just feel like writing something right now A weird collection of thoughts and ideas I have whenever I'm alone. My thoughts and ideas are surprisingly difficult to put into words, so I apologize if the writing is a bit weak.
