Sometimes I am just a cat
a stray cat who is licking her wounds underneath of a rumbling giant overpass
living has become a loneliness journey
like a nickel
lying sedately in the ditch of a pavement
I am hating the imprisonment when dark's coming
and hating deceitful faces when light takes over the world
for those living beings I groaning
who are they?
and where are they from?
why are they murky confused?
The fouling dirtiness of this city really chokes my every breath (I got asthma )
and with utterly unhappy sentiments
I would 'meow' again to all
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