Dead Cat

Cramped in a small corner

of a freeway I sat,

was eating the food thrown at me,

"Eat this spit". That Brat!

Rushing windowpanes I saw,

Glittering with orange glimmer,

from the street lights that they stole,

giving a wet bright shimmer.

Winter night it was,

Cold and horrid, as I speak,

this tramp had had bad business

today, making him timidly weak.

The arses at the toll,

wearing their cushioned-puffed blazers,

bloody faggots showing their middles,

whenever they gazed us.

Us? Was with my cat,

she was my darling, no kidding!

[Ate half of my 'spit' everyday.

Wanted a dead cat, anyone bidding?]

Well, my dead wife had left

me this little piece of sh(it)rimp,

last words "Take care of her"

"Dammit", I said, as the cold bit.

This was when the miracle happened,

it struck me like a blow on the head.

As I echoed my dead spouse,

"take care of her!", she had said.

Quickly took out my trustworthy dagger,

and ripped apart it's heart,

Inside it I saw my wife smiling,

and I woke up with a start.