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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required He was a well statured man I dated briefly, finding my way to the place where my Dad was born in the twenties and then crying for the foothills where I grew up such a short time later. You know the writing world is a cruel place at times. Society can also be at times though I never really figured out why. Many times I grew tired of it, until the day that I met Boney Fingers. He was an old, Yellow, tiger striped alley cat. This old Tom Cat had had a rough life I could see and I tried to be so gentle with the horribly thin, rugged looking creature. He had a huge calcium deposit on his right cheek bone from being kicked to the curb so much. A tear streamed down my face many, many times as I spoke to old Boney Fingers about life, and named him the name because of an old country song. The cat was merely trying to get a meal, doing all he could to survive and oh, how in society I could relate to being different and not accepted by my peers. It seemed as every where I would travel to set out on yet another writing venture there was always some kind of scene or circle to bring me to my knees but its a good place to be to pray. Funny the men I seldom dated, one in particular, who's name was John. A very handsome man, and all the women wanted his attention. How did I know this would be trouble for me? Again? It's kind of ironic how that old cat Boney Fingers almost had perfect timing to my heart aches, as if he had some kind of radar on my emotional down falls. On my worst days, finding it hard to relate to anyone because of painful words said- here would come that old straggly cat walking up the side walk to see me. I did all I could for the poor old cat, but oh as much compassion, and caring I could provide really could not help Boney Fingers. I left out of that town, a mile from Huntington, West Virginia with two heartbreaks. A man named John, and a cat that worked his fingers to the bones and all he got was boney fingers, yes, just trying to get a meal, trying to survive in a human's world. No he didn't have fingers. He had my heart.
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