The cat, black as the night, collar jingling, does he ever stop to think? Swift and nimble, he races for you, waiting to be fed. Is he tired of his life as a pet? We never know, he's lucky he doesn't get cold.The winter is harsh for a little kitten, and he doesn't blend in. He won't survive, if I set him free.A cat, black as the night, stops to think.
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