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Pretty much a memorial poem for my recently deceased cat, ninja. |
| The Happy Black Cat Every morning I'd pat him gently, then he would purr intently. When I was with him he was always sweet, I will now never feel incomplete. He had gentle, very soft fur, I would just pat it to hear him purr. As the time passed we drifted further each day, he started to seem far away. But then he was gone, I now realized what I had missed, I missed his fur, his purr, his warmth. And I wish he was here with me. But up there, he will be free. -A tribute to my cat Ninja, who I never paid much attention to until it was too late. -Jas, 12. |