Destiny
A small dark shape, alone, afraid,
Within the confines of a cardboard box.
A stranger offering sustenance yet no relief,
No place to sleep.
'We'll put her to sleep' they say.
The stranger turns and cries,
Can’t bear to think of her demise.
The stranger begs and pleads with friends,
'I will not lie, she may yet die,
But please consider taking her in,
Ill health aside, she's a loving thing'.
I heard the plea from friends of friends.
Without a thought I made her mine,
No matter of the cost or time.
Now she sits upon my lap,
This happy, healthy, purring mass,
Contented in the knowledge that
She has a home, she's someone's cat.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
