Poor Sweet Little Beth

I found you lying on the pavement at midnight,

I raced out of my car hoping you were still alright.

Poor sweet little Beth.

For two hours you laid there, run over in cold blood,

Still so young like a flower to bloom, a little bud.

Poor sweet little Beth.

Abandoned, forsaken, without a home to go,

I pity the killer, for who could ever stoop so low?

Poor sweet little Beth.

Yet you were not a sight of horror, but with grace,

Even the leak of your bowels was no disgrace.

Poor sweet little Beth.

Your grey-colored fur coat glimmered in the moonlight.

How could something so wrong be so perfectly right?

Poor sweet little Beth.

I don’t know if you were ever named at birth,

But I have named you at the sight of your death.

Not even a cat should enter Hades unloved,

so know that I mourned you, poor sweet little Beth.