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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required In memory of a cat In those years of innocence When actions were not guided by much sense I once killed a little white cat That had trespassed; I guess, while on the trail of a rat. I knew not from where it came Or, if the door had been left ajar; who to blame But I was angered at it's sight So, I reached for a pestle, and struck with all my might. In blind anguish it dashed about Dazed! And of the way out, obviously in doubt For, I had blocked the kitchen door A club in my hand – a hammer in the hand of Thor! Another lone strike, and it’d gone still In my thrill, I’d cut the air with the loudest shrill Picked my kill; displayed for all to see I was a warrior, a great - I had wallowed in my glee. But, Mum did not share in my thrill As her words had, through me sent a chill “The cat will visit in your dream To seek revenge, if it’s anger is extreme”. “You’re a self-acclaimed brave Therefore, by your hands; you must dig its grave And it’s vengeful spirit pacify With pleas, at the place where it will now eternally lie”. With a heart filled with fear Minding that the night was getting very near My tiny hands had dug the ground And I’d rendered my plea upon the little grave mound. Though, of reprisals from the dead My then innocent mind later outgrew it's dread For fun, I never did kill again As to the sanctity of all life, I got bound by a chain. May 5, 2018
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