Nikki

Black and white, that's what she was.
She could be sweet as a flower
but as grumpy as lightning.
If Nikki could talk, she would mewl “pet me".
When she was happy her tail would flick, flick.
Her fur is soft as silk caressing your fingers.
I didn't get her--she got me.
I was hers and she was mine.
Nikki was older than me and my brother,
but she was like my sister.
I will never forget the meows at night
and her leaping on to my bed.

One day things got worse
and she got sick.
We couldn't save her anymore;
it was too late.

Friday, I went home
but no cat.
She was in heaven.
Ever since then I hear her mewl and her purr,
especially at night, curled up in bed.