I met a cat
I met the poor cat at hectic New York City
The smog of streets tried covering its pain
The greenish emptiness of eyes; it’s a pity
It lost all dreams; here’s nothing to explain
She met a lot of hardships and the sorrow
Instead of love, the kittens and kind things
So, happiness won’t come to cat tomorrow
Here’s broken part of her imaginary wings
She wanted to become a tiger or an eagle
To tear apart her enemies or as a crazy dog
She might at least to bite as angry beagle
But dreams did melt as the cover of the fog
She likes to meet a garbage dumpster joy
It is a sweet award for her limp walk today
The trash cans can be something to enjoy
It smells so good for her; it feels such gay
I wanted to feed and stroke that poor kitty
Even take it with me to make it feel home
It refused, cause it thinks she is too pretty
It said: “fsh” and continued walking alone