but it's ok, I've got nine lives
regret will not be my friend
nor caring, my neighbour
I climb the tree branches,
up up and away
far from the maddening crowd
into dense thickness
Until I find my servant
my soothing mockingbird
who will taunt me to sleep
and hopskipsing for my money
I don't need the bag lady's pity
Nor the crazy cat lady's food
Where others clamour I avoid
Stalking with an upturned tail: disgust
Slowly, in the growing darkness,
the silence thickens and I am
where I wish to be: all
alone.
