Poetry

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I become a pathetic creature,when i deny my own
good nature,in the simple things i do,if they lack
what should be true,will try to learn as i go ,
best sometimes in an ordinary way,the feral cat
who comes into my backyard,i call her tiger,she has
stripes you see,bounding over walls,climbing fences
going into other peoples,if dogs are there she
scarpers fast,she has her food and then she's gone
until again she comes along,my own cat he lives indoors,is looked after by me for seven years or
more,on the chair or on the mat,takes his life
for granted just where he's at,he's got a very friendly nature,am lucky to have a furry friend,
been with me in good times and bad,the feral cat is a very fine feline,but my own cat tibbo,is here each day,to some he may be just a cat,but to me he's just what a cat should be,cool,calm and
collected,his special feature,he is of course
one of GOD'S LITTLE CREATURES. Joe.

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