The Insecure Rat and its Piano


Shuffling, shifting,
peeking, sneaking,
smelling, feeling,
through my tiny eyes I see
all the cats and bitches
that for some reason
are cross with me.
All I want is to please
the women, the cats,
the bitches, and still be able
to look into the mirror that is
(it reflected humans once
but the fallen shard
is now staring at me)
frightening me, mocking me.
If I hide from the mirror
the cats will eat me;
if I hide from the cats
I will eat myself.

There’s but one sound
daring me, inspiring me
to go on; on those wafts
I will dance forever
I will forget myself
I will sing to myself
I will be a man.

But that mirror in the corner
sees me, even at my piano,
I have not the courage,
to move it, to remove it.

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