Salty Speculations

Old Cat Tranny

I had a conversation with a friend a while back that instead of growing old and being an “old cat lady” that a gender neutral term needed to be inserted and so came the not so politically correct use of “tranny” but hey I’m describing myself so there. I was talking with a different friend this evening about being alone and hating it. I was  then instructed to write a poem. Here is the results:

Old Cat Tranny

Home from the bustle of work

Sits the keys down with the hope

That for one night more

There be will to cope

One day at a time

Was said when young

Between then and now

Forty years strung

Not one day passes

Without a thought

Of the years flying by

And love that was sought

Death not being

The biggest fear

But dying with no one

but a cat near.

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