He’s an imposter,
Slinks around in my fur,
Steals in through my cat flap,
Imitates my purr,
He helps himself to my dinner,
Grows fat while I grow thin,
Licks his lips and then mocks me
With a self-satisfied grin,
He’s a scamp and a bully,
With sparkling, daring eyes,
Treats my place as if it’s his own,
He loves to tantalize,
Afterwards when he’s bored
He’ll saunter across the kitchen floor,
Without as much as a backward glance,
And head home to his house next door.
Diane Scantlebury
