Paulding Pound

I’m a lucky cat. 

Someone saw the good in me.

There were so many others who could have been chosen for traits and talents I do not possess.

That’s life in the pound.  The uncertainty.  The fear.  The hope.

Yet this fool saw me and found me pretty enough.

I was foolish as well.

Feeling it was the end.

I scratched and clawed furiously.

Knowing-I would meet the end that happened to my friends.

My friends- they lie and wait behind barred cages. 

Sometimes, meows despair

Waiting and hoping that someone will come for them.

I had never known kindness.

Nor had my friends.

Always caged in fear

The hands on us always meant the end.

Wednesday—the dreaded dawn.

      A judgement sentenced—worth or worthless.

Bad or good – Affectionate or annoying.

  Wednesday— the day we wonder-might I disappear forever like so many before.

    If, no one sees my light. 

If, no one finds me in my lonely cage. 

  Hiding behind the fear of not knowing -Is the end of me?

    I would be your best friend- if you let me.

Will you remember me?

I called to my friends.

   My foolish hope had led me to a new life.

    But, I mourn my friends.

Their fate left in that pound.

Cry against the myth that our lives are nine.

Cry for my friends whose lives are but one.

Cry for the one who saved me from the end.

Cry for my friends whose love can be won.

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