He stares at me, frequently,
daily gives a passing glance,
not knowing I can also see,
watching as we do this dance.
He knows I have a certain beauty,
sometimes even seems to hear it.
as I hang here in my solemn duty,
does he know how much I’ve held my Spirit.
Perhaps he merely sees my hues,
nothing more, simply that,
maybe tomorrow he will choose
to recognize his loving cat.
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