The Cat

She slinks past moving in time to the drum
She prowls past and through and by
lurks in the shadows, so you see but her eyes
Which glisten and show green by the moon
She catches most of which she hunts
Few escape the traps she sets
She likes to play with her food
All things, including love, are games
She'll draw you in with a look
dismiss you with a hiss
And like the wild cat
which inhabits the jungle dark
or sweeping wide plain
Her nails are daggers
and easily painted red.
She'll steel your heart, then rip it out
She'll leave it on the floor
And as you pick it up
She'll leave with a sneer by the door.
So beware of the cat
Who prowls by night
Who promises love and gives none.
Beware of the cat, she goes by many names
I could not tell you every one.
Beware.