The Blanket

Rolled in the blanket,The warmth gone
He cried
"Meow.......Meow........Meow"
But not the same,
Fear blew his dreams,darkening his nights,
Lost.......he really lost.
Oh! the poor cat.

He eats his bread,but not the taste again,
Fast and hard he runs,but not a gain.
The days on her lap & the warmth,
The love she gave,
The blooming flowers in his dreams,
The days of sweeter bread,
The nights of lullaby,
The Nightingale gone! She has flown!
He is alone!
Vacuum dead are his nights.
Oh! the poor cat.

The days they were together,
Together they walked the streets.
They saw the rain drops singing,
Across the Blimming traffic lights.
Happiness in his heart,
He cried "Meow........Meow........Meow,
I AM THE ONLY CAT"

Gone are the days & the warmth.
Never can the bread be sweeter ,
Never can he get the care,
And never can he cry with the same tune.
But still he cries,Again & Again,
"Meow........Meow.........Meow"