I never told her that I loved her the best,
even though she did not fail to tell me so
every single day.
Every morning she’d sit near the window
waiting for me to wake up
to sunrise and to life.
She’d comfort me with purring
and I’d fatten her with smiles.
I the earth on which she moves
and she the ocean I once saw.
The only world my Whity knew
was the earth within my compound wall.
The only people my Whity loved
was the family under my rooftop.
Whity should’ve been a hunter’s cat
with forests to run and mice to hunt,
instead of the cardboard box and the kitchen carpet.
One morning, I didn’t see her at the windowsill.
She was gone, never to return again.
People must have thought me crazy
yelling Whity,Whity, out in the fileds,
as rain came falling down and around me.
(I was umbrella-less and shivering)
Oh God, Protect my Whity from rain.
I’d like to think, a little hunter girl
snatched Whity from my window sill
and she’s happy hunting mice now.
I now am a free girl.
(I once was owned by a cat named Whity)
Whity‘s been the only human thing
who gave me more love
than I ever gave back in return.
Miss you, Whity.