On the Porch

I’m on the porch, sitting with a cat I have no name for. His owners pushed him out the door and left him to run wild again. But the problem is, he was tamed and now cannot find his bearings outside. He cries, I cry, and I touch his head and around his face like I wish someone would do for me. It is hard to look at him and not see myself. Pushed out a door and into a cruel world, a world waiting for a gullible person like me to surface. So I can learn the dark depths of the truth concerning human nature. I remember a time when everything was night bugs, swimming, campfires, gardens, and love. That time feels like 23 years ago because it was but still all those years ago I cried for suffering. Despite the lack of empathy towards me my whole life I was able to maintain some kind of faith that there is always something worth saving. And ever since then a hole in my stomach has slowly been getting eaten away by the acidity of the world. I try to keep it going with food but how many mouths i have fed becomes gut wrenching. Some still pretty in their big houses, never taking in a stray, never having a child, never contributing to another person in a positive way. Those who have power rarely use it in good ways. They play it safe while the rest of the world plays a cruel game. I stare back at the cat…I am crying. He is crying. And I think how beautiful it is to have the ability to cry and feel empathy after going through enough to lose hope.

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