Bibsy Bum-Wum

About one of my cats that my dad is still torturing and refuses to take to the humane society.

Bum-Wum Bibsy takes her tea from inside

The coming storm as it is indiscreet

To wipe bloodied paws upon her apron—

At least until the barriers collapse.

 

A useless claw brushes across her face,

Alarmed, frightened of a race not her own.

Still, she thought she had an approaching sun;

Bibsy Bum-Wum cries: ‘Where’s my lady gone?’

 

 

Author's Note

I don't care much for form here. This was something I initially wrote for a creative writing class, but kept because I'm just that sentimental. What's the feeling you get from this? Don't be shy.