Fickle Cat

With a swing of his tail, I rush to his side.
My face is all splotchy from the tears I’ve cried.

Another day has come, another fight has passed.
I pray that this reconcile is not our last.

I lick my wounds like a cat licks its paws,
trying to hide the marks that he made with his claws.

I drop my head and hide my own shame,
I beg for forgiveness, although I’m not to blame.

I try to follow his moods and ignore when he’s cruel,
for that’s how it is under the fickle cat’s rule.

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