Thinking back.
I wonder how I fell off track.
Looking at these sidewalks.
Marked with boxes.
Like a childs hop scotch game.
Was I always this black cat?
Struggling and pawing at life's mat.
The door to where my life ended and began.
Is that why I ran?
Is that why I came back?
Because I died, and lived?
Or was I always this ****** black cat...