picture by: Sameer Gudhate

Being human seems tricky—I watch, I observe, 
They do all these things that throw me a curve. 
They vanish in rooms with a snap and a clack, 
Leaving me out here, with my nose in the crack. 
“Privacy,” they mutter, shooing me away, 
But I’m just on guard, keeping mischief at bay.

They speak in strange sounds, and expect me to heed, 
I tilt my head, trying to parse every bead. 
When I tap things off tables—just checking, you see
They throw up their hands, glaring fiercely at me. 
“It’s gravity’s proof!” I’d say with a purr, 
Yet somehow they think it’s just all a blur.

Then bedtime rolls in, quite a scene to behold, 
They fluff up their pillows, cozy and bold. 
I perch nearby with a warm, watchful grin, 
Plotting my leap as they’re tucked snugly in. 
They mutter and toss, but they don’t truly mind
I’m the soft furry heart that they love to find.

And food? Oh, their food! What a peculiar spree, 
Broccoli for breakfast? No thanks—not for me! 
Why settle for greens when cheese is divine? 
So I sit by their side, hoping for a bite of “mine.”

Exercise time is my favorite sight 
They bend and they stretch in the morning light. 
They flop on the floor, limbs out in a sprawl, 
While I leap and prance with no struggle at all. 
“Take notes,” I’d say, “on how grace is achieved,” 
But they chuckle and sigh like I’m just being naive.

The red dot? The mystery that dances and blinks, 
A spot on the wall is gone before I can think. 
But I’ll catch it one day, with my claws out and true, 
For now, it’s my puzzle, my own great debut.

And in the stillness, when they sleep and they snore, 
I prowl through the dark on my nightly tour. 
I leap and I dart, a shadow in flight, 
Guarding them all with each soft, silent stride. 
They may grumble and stir, but deep down they know, 
I’m their midnight protector, with a soft, gentle glow.

So here I remain, their whiskered wise guide, 
With paws on the ground and my feline pride. 
For without me, dear humans, where would you be? 
I’m the heart of your home, your own little G.


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