A Tear on the Window

A lone cat sits on the windowsill,
In an empty house,
Staring out into the unwelcoming skies.
Dark clouds brood over the trees,
With darkened hearts,
Bringing sorrow on sad, gray wings.

The poor cat was starved:
His vibrant orange-striped coat hung low,
Starved ribs exposed,
And sad, almond eyes sagged in.

The door to the room creaked,
Hung open as the wind moaned,
Each cry matched by the lonely cat,
Hoping for a little strength to go on.

Then the sky cried,
And a teardrop fell on the window.
The lone cat was curious
And lapped at the tear.
But the tear stayed on the window,
Never changing its remorse.

The cat let out a pitiful mew,
Staggering to the door,
Gazing out into the crying clouds.
The clouds gazed back,
Tears gently falling,
Creating a river of grief.

The cat looks down,
Crashes to the floor.
His chest labors for air,
Struggling to stay conscious.

Finally his human friend comes in,
Crying out his name.
Inside the cat smiles,
Outside the cat gurgles a last mew,
Taking his last breath,
With whom he cares for beside him.

And the cat’s friend looks outside to find
A tear on the window.

Written by: Li'l Wyvern Girl