“Look at the stupid cat.
Give me that stupid sandwich back.”
A black kitten sat in the alley,
Eating the tuna sandwich the teen had dropped.
Well, he wasn’t going to just let that cat steal his lunch.
The boy kicked the kitten,
Knocked it down.
He didn’t notice the way its leg was bleeding,
Or the way its little ribs were showing.
No, he didn’t care for the harmless thing at all.
Before leaving, he hit the thing again.
It clawed at his hand with no regret.
Naturally, the boy was mad.
He kicked its stomach hard once again.
The boy left without any other thought.
The cat made a small distressed noise,
Unknowingly beckoning a young girl,
A kind girl.
A girl named Belle.
Belle ran toward the wounded kitten.
“Have you been separated from your litter, little guy?”
She took off her sweater,
And wrapped up the small creature.
She took it with her,
Into her home.
As she walked in,
A larger white cat greeted Belle.
It blinked with its different colored eyes,
And rubbed itself against Belle’s leg.
It wanted the kitten to know who the girl belonged to.
“Belle? You’re home late, did something happen?”
A man’s voice.
He walked into the room where Belle stood,
And he instantly noticed the kitten.
He walked in front of Belle,
Towering over her,
The top of her head only reaching his shoulder.
He lifted the kitten from her arms,
He held the creature to his chest,
Smiling as he did so.
“You found another baby for us?”
“Yes, Gil. She’s really hurt, and I want to help her.”
The tall boy she called Gil took the girl’s hand,
And he held the kitten in his other.
The white cat followed closely behind.
They sat the kitten down on a table,
All tending its wounds.
“Look, it has white paws.
Belle, let’s name it Boots!”
Belle looked at the boy, who was bandaging the kitten’s leg.
“That’s cute. But it’s more for boy cats.
I was thinking we could name her Alice.”
Gilbert smiled at Belle.
The newly named Alice could feel a warmth,
This feeling through that smile.
One she had never known before.
A warmth known as love.
DU LIEST GERADE
The Poetry of a Young Dreamer
PoetryYes I need therapy but writing shitty poetry while listening to Achilles Come Down is free and just as effective
