It was that cold small chunk of the sidewalk

What stood the same despair as we follow Tom.

And yet, the smoke will cover our senses with panic,

In thick came red and gold with hands on elbows

We cry for the new warmth that I had caused.

He now will suffer my fate, as kindle are torn

From baskets, innocence with no common sense, I say.

Then came my Molly who ran many blocks - save Tom.

I think she still loves me, too soon to tell.

I killed them all, will you, for me, meow?