I was returning from work late one night;
down a dark, narrow country road.
A cat in the middle, lay dead, in my sight;
his eyes, looking up, simply glowed.
I avoided hitting him; I felt so sad;
poor little kitten; wasn’t meant to be.
His short life had ended so bad;
with his terrified eyes staring at me.
I couldn’t dismiss that look in his eyes;
it almost seemed, he was pleading with me;
that he might be alive, left me traumatized;
I just had to go back and see.
By the time I turned round and headed back;
bright headlights were coming my direction;
turning round on the road to block attack;
my emergency flashers made the connection.
The oncoming car squeezed by on the side;
he had obviously understood.
Had I not blocked him the cat would have died;
barely alive; he’d have been dead, for good.
I gathered up this precious child;
and carried him back to my car;
in pain and fear; his eyes were wild;
his troubles were not over, by far.
Surgery and love, healed him completely;
and he maintained great love to share.
I don’t know how to say it discretely,
“Who could kill a baby, and not care?”
Over a decade, love flowed from his being;
two families inhaled love for years;
how is it possible, some cannot be seeing:
killing love brings nothing, but tears.