I’m going to call my friend Stacie to protect her identity. At the time I wrote this poem she was living with a guy, someone much older. Somehow she came across a tiny kitten that had been abandoned by it’s mother. She kept it for exactly two days feeding it from a bottle, but the man she lived with grew angry because the kitten kept them up at night. The selfish bastard made her choose.
She had no one if he left her, so she did something many girls do in her situation. She betrayed herself. They took the kitten in the car with them, drove to a fancy house and dumped the kitten in the backyard in the hopes that the people living there would happen upon it and take it in. It was a gamble. Then, they drove away. She never knew what became of the kitten but blamed herself often.
When she finally told me the story she had been crying for days. Both her actions and her grief broke my heart. And so I wrote this poem for her, the kitten, and so many others that are taken for granted. I have made no alterations to the poem since the day I wrote it when I was about fifteen.
Cry little kitty, for the breast that once nursed you abandoned you to the cruelty of human hands.
Cry little kitty, for in a world where kids go hungry and people exploit each other no one will hear your little kitty cries.
Cry little kitty because I hear you, and my tears go with you, and my memories will always have you.
Cry little kitty that your little grey eyes and your pink button nose feel the hatred inside human hearts.
Cry little kitty, for here comes the master to take you in his arms, caress your little kitty head, and give you his love.
Now little kitty, cry no more.