The Cat Lady’s Last Breath
Dirty smelly house death reveals a tragedy
The Cat Lady’s Last Breath
Her house was a cave, a wild cat den,
fifty cats prowled like shadows within.
The air thick with stink, cat wee burned the walls,
poo scattered like fallen leaves in the halls.
Fleas ruled the kingdom, biting deep,
cats and lady, no rest, no sleep.
Claws tore at skin, teeth left wounds open,
smell wrapped the house like a weeping scar.
She fed them scraps, a ragged queen,
ruler of a crumbling, filthy scene.
The cats hissed loud, their eyes fierce and wild,
her crown a weight, broken and defiled.
One morning she lay cold, breath no more,
the cats gathered close, hungry for flesh galore.
They tore at her skin, while she sat in a chair
sharp teeth and claws,
no mercy shown, no time to pause.
What remained was a skeleton sat worn,
still clutching a can of flea spray, forlorn.
A cruel last grip in the fading light,
the cat lady vanished into the night.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
Wow, you must have had a bad day when you did this one, Marie. It is gruesome, but at the same time captivating.
nice...