Missed
I sat there while he prepared his poison
Her scattered frame wrapped in her favourite towel
held together by her years of drool
her pain a broken meow
unrecognisable from those late nights
when her need for more food
was echoed in my ears
Hold her tightly her executioner whispered
No tighter had i held her
The needle slipped between skin and bone
counting her breaths
slowing as her eyes smiled at my own
and as tear pushed tear
my sweet Angel was gone
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2021
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