Be Pretty

Be pretty,
Be good to the cat when i die.
You may not know that i used to lie
In that place in the sun he loved so much,
When the house was silent and free of mockery.
I used to lie there and plot and scheme our lives together
Until one of us should fall.
It must be me or reading this will mean nothing.
It must be me but know that
When you lie in that place in the sun,
I will be the sun's fingers soothing you
With our lost love.

[Old poem I wrote years ago and just remembered, thought i'd write it down]