I hope I'm not asking too much, Lord,
All I want is a home of my own,
And to know when my next meal is coming
Instead of the scraps I get thrown.
I've been out in the cold for so long now,
Coping as best as I can,
But it's not so long I've forgotten
The touch of a soft caring hand.
I look in house windows at Christmas,
As cats doze by the fire, quite replete -
How I'd welcome a box in the kitchen,
And tasty food for me to eat.
For me there was tinsel and gift wrap,
But the fun didn't last very long -
They put me out with the rubbish;
I don't know what I did wrong.
I really don't want to be greedy,
At the moment I'm all skin and bone,
So would it be too much to hope for,
That someone will give me a home?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem