Erika Seetzen-Woods

The end of the road

When she got old,oh why
Was she given a flat
Somewhere up near the sky
And had to leave her cat.

She got used to the lift,
Always crossing her heart.
Her flat was a real gift,
Going up was an art!

The room was always warm
And the view very wide,
But she felt so forlorn-
And she did dread the night!

Had she lived all these years
To be cast in the sky?
Did she shed all those tears
Waiting up there to die?

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Erika Seetzen-Woods.
Published on e-Stories.org on 04/20/2004.

 
 

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