Rat For Thought I hide in the dirt where he never looks, Even in pots, which he cooks. I share the cold of the room, With a vacuum cleaner and a worn broom. My food is scraps mixed with straw, And other crumbs I find on the floor. I climb the furniture and the stair, Gnawing everything I find there. A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With a broken claw, and silver eye. Followed by the neighbours cat gracefully thin, Eyes intent on a kill almost sunken in. A scrap of cheese beginning to harden, I find near the trash in the walled garden. A garden, and such gardens are not made, I stare in wander content in the shade.Birth sign: Scorpio
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