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Last Look

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.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 1/7/2020 4:56:00 PM
I got kitties too, three of the finest psychopaths the world has ever known... they romp, they play, and terrorize, my home is not my own... But, they brighten my day... Chase my blues away... So this house is now their home...
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Jean Bush
Date: 1/7/2020 5:00:00 PM
You're lucky they found you. Hahaha!
Date: 8/30/2018 8:19:00 AM
I know this cat. You describe her perfectly. Her name is Millie, and she lives here. Nice poem.
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Jean Bush
Date: 8/30/2018 10:25:00 AM
Thank you. I'm glad Millie found you.
Date: 8/29/2018 6:21:00 PM
Not a true story.
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Book: Shattered Sighs