happiness, happy, having a pet, poem, Poetry

The Cats Who Visit Me at Night

There are two cats who visit me in my sleep.
Cats that twirl and lay down with me, as I slumber in the deep.
Cats who lay down on my chest, as if I was a pillowy sheep.
Cats who witness my eyes as they silently weep.

Every night they would come into my room,
Not minding the darkness and gloom,
Of a rustic and dusty lounge which longs for the caress of a broom.
They would meow and lick my eyes,
As if to clean the soot of a stressful day that once again passed by.

They would massage my back like a masseur.
Like confident servants aware that their master will like it for sure.
They would then snuggle in and fall asleep on my chest.
I would then calm down and forget about the past, present, future and the rest.

Never have I been shown a love so true.
A love that is unconditional, honest and sticks like a glue.
Throughout my depressed life, pets have alleviated my story that is blue,
To a brighter and merrier tinge of a colorful hue.

There are two cats who visit me at night and soothes me from within.
Cats that stuck with me, regardless of the disposition I’m in.
Cats that sleep by my side and lightens my burden.
They are an adorable pair, whose names are Fluffy and Hidden.

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