THE BLIND CAT

It sits beside a huge dustbin,
The site that wafts the smell of food.
This place has always for it been
What's saved it from starvation rude.

A little boy has daily come
With carton plate and some offal.
He waits for it all to consume,
And have a stomach pleased and full.

It lifts its mouth and softly mews
With gratitude but full of whine.
He strokes its head and calms its bruise
And assures it he won't decline.

It lives in darkness, it can't move,
But has a face full of delight.
A look at that calm face can prove
It's gained great love though it's lost sight.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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