Cat Alley: Poem

In the trashcans and boxes in an alleyway,

Lived the mice of the city of Callaway.

In the day, they would carefully search for food and scraps

Just watch out for those pesky, evil mouse traps.

 

In the day, they were mostly safe and roamed as they pleased,

They ate stale bread, old meat, and moldy cheddar cheese.

But at night, all the mice hid; there was fear in every heart,

For they all knew the horrors who lurked in the dark.

 

Yellow eyes, green eyes, blue eyes shining,

They scanned the night for any mice who were perfect for dining.

With white sharp fangs, and sharp retractable claws,

They pounced on unsuspecting mice, pinning them down with their paws.

 

Cats. Cats. They stalked and hunted in the dark alleyway,

Terrorizing the mice that lived in Callaway.

The mice had lost many loved ones, like Billy and Sally.

They knew all too well no mouse was safe at the nights of Cat Alley.

 

There were big cats, and small cats, both with equal appetite

For foolish, silly mice who thought it safe to scavenge at night.

Old cats and young cats loved to play a dreadful game

With the mice who had unwittingly wandered into their domain.

 

The cats owned the night, and they themselves knew it.

They devoured several mice a day, including Old Mouse Prewitt.

They ate the mice raw; they ate the mice baked.

They even made a recipe for scrumptious mouse cake.

 

“There must be a way,” said one mouse named Tammy,

“To rid the cats that stalk Cat Alley.

We can’t just let these horrible cats run wild

Eating sister, brother, mother, father, and child!”

 

Tammy rallied a band of ten mice together,

They’d fight these cats and avenge their sisters and brothers.

An elderly mouse shook his head, “This won’t end well at all.

There are over twenty cats. Your army is way too small.”

 

“We cannot wait any longer,” Tammy said with a huff.

“The cats are great in number, but we are strong and tough!

We shall defeat these fiendish felines and say, ‘Good riddance!’

We won’t need any more help or assistance.”

 

“It is late, and it is dark,” the elderly mouse said.

“If you insist on fighting, then send your troop to bed.

In the morning, you can attack, for the cats are lazier then,

But at night they are alert; your soldiers would soon be eaten.”

 

“No,” Tammy said. “It will be hours till daybreak,

I can’t wait around while cats feast upon mouse cake!

When we attack, we shall blow our war horn,

We shall ring our war bells and show those cats our scorn!”

 

“No, no, no, no!” the elderly mouse said.

“Make too much noise, and you’ll all be dead!

The cats will know you’re coming if you make a riot.

If you intend to attack, then you must be quiet.”

 

“The cats will be too afraid of us,” Tammy said.

“They’ll run when they hear our battle cries, and it is they who will be dead.”

Tammy sounded the war horn and led her troop out into the alley,

Blowing horns and ringing bells, they made a most passionate rally.

 

The cats heard the noise and were not the least bit nervous.

They went to go see the idiots who were making the ruckus.

The cats skulked in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with delight.

“Perfect,” the cats said. “We shall feast even better tonight.”

 

Tammy thought the cats would be afraid and tremble.

Instead, the cats pounced upon them, but it was only the preamble.

The cats swatted them high into the air,

They toyed with them for hours without a care.

 

The mice tried to fight and escape their attacks,

But it was all for naught; there were too many cats.

They were beaten and bashed, and death seemed to be their fate,

They wished they’d listen to the old mouse, but now it was too late.

 

When the cats were done hitting the mice in a game of badminton,

They licked their chops and gobbled up the mice, Markus, and Quinton.

Then Jasper and Jacob and Josephine and Tilly,

Baxter and Parmesan, and Harold, and Milly.

 

Tammy tried to scurry off, her dream of victory in a tatter,

But the cats snatched her up and snickered. “We shall put her in cake batter!”

They hauled her off to their kitchen, and no one saw her after that.

It is rumored she was put in a nice velvet cake with a side of roasted bat.

 

Defeating the cats to save lives was zealous Tammy’s goal,

But she ignored wise council and ended up losing her soul.

Plans to do good are needed every hour

But without wise council, plans fall like an unstable tower.