He, an orange tabby
with a bloody nose;
drinks up my watery eyes
meowing, meowing
me, me, me….see!
It was not a care trap
as I heard the story goes.
Mrs. Wagstaff never
brought them to the ASPCA.
What she did, I dare not say.
Marmie now loves
to paw pat my cheek.
It took him some learning
that life not need be so bleak.
He curls up near my neck at night
and does not dream of mice, I’m sure.
Probably worries about their plight,
how they're trapped, by people, so unsure.
He’s in the hospital tonight,
sick from disease.
So send him all your loving,
if you will, please?
This is a simple writing, very emotional. It comes more from my heart than orderly thought. But crit as you may. Any poem dedicated to Marmie should be the best.
Thank you, Laurie



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