Short poem I wrote about Cicero's loneliness.
Poor Cicero, always waiting, he needs this
All he needs is the Night Mothers grateful kiss
Forever wanting to be wanted, and loved
But no, he only gets shoved
Nobody care for him
While his spirit grows dim
Do not worry
I will hurry
I will take poor Cicero away
Away from all the foul play
In this world he does not belong
Poor, poor Cicero.
I am afraid he will soon run
Run away from what has begun
He does not need family any more
He now has me to adore
I will protect him, always and forever
Poor, poor Cicero