The Green Room

Why must I be your prisoner,

locked in the pistachio green room all day?

I have given you perfect love

and constant, faithful loyalty

I speak your name every day,

loud enough for the neighbors to hear,

but you order me to shut up.

I devour your daily tuna fare

and brazenly beg for more.

You are held in motherly high esteem,

yet, here I am, locked in the square green room.

The days can be hollow and lonely.

If only the birds could hear my chatter,

we would be close friends.

I am hungry, ravenous, close to starvation.

I don’t understand why you are not here.

The other prisoner gives no comfort.

She would rather snore away the pain of captivity.

I don’t blame that loud one, really.

She’s also locked in the cloudless green room.

Every day, the two of us wonder

when we will hear the familiar sound

of your noisy, blue machine

and soft-fallen footsteps.

We hear the bird clock every hour.

Nine chirps, eleven tweets, two cackles.

What time is it now?

Time passes slowly…

watching the door…

that frees us from the toy-filled green room

This prisoner needs your attention.

Incessant, unashamed, head-butting attention

that cannot be given at your hand,

when your hand is not present.

I do not comprehend.

What have I done to deserve this torture?

Why are you not here?

So this is it, I’m left to die

of starvation and a broken feline heart,

locked forever in the shelter of the vacuous green room.