by Jean Bush
Starving little beggar cat,
So thin and full of woe,
Sitting with your tail wrapped feet
Not flinching from your blows.
You sit there so patiently
Waiting for some food,
At last I sigh and just give in
So you won’t think I’m rude.
Do not assume you’ve gotten me
As I pat your scrawny head,
Do not think you’re gonna sleep
With your fleas upon my bed.
Your belly’s full, your ears were scratched
Yet somehow I think you know,
The door is cracked… you stop…look back
Then on your way you go.
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