My cat wasn't just a cat.
She was my soul put into a different form.
My conscience in a slender tigerstriped body.
We picked each other from the beginning.
Advice was written in her fur.
Understanding printed on her paws.
One look from our incredibly alike eyes held a whole conversation.
And I could understand it.
To see her in so much pain sliced my chest.
To see her have to be injected murdered my heart.
And when her body was limp, and her eyes void,
My soul felt the same and I knew I lost myself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
: o this didn't happen in real life, did it? ? ?