Every so often,
That same dark fur appears again
Crawling around the bright green benches,
It reaches for the nearest bin
To eat the remains of what once was

Under the shade of an autumn’s day,
People whom I don’t know walk pass
Their eyes seem to linger for a second too long,
Onto the lonesome being known as me

But you,
The single black cat who searches for scraps,
Are my only acquaintance in this strange routine
You never reach me, nor I reach you
Yet I do try

Though perhaps you’ve chosen to ignore that
And I place no blame upon your small shoulders
We are simply two interlopers,
Interwoven in this society where we do not belong

So, dear black cat,
Whomst name I do not know,
Come linger a little longer,
In my futile attempt

To belong.