Poem from a feral cat

I may never be a lap cat,

or one who comes when called.

I may resist the hand that tries to touch

and some may think I'm flawed.

I may prefer my freedom

to your warm and cozy house.

I may reject a bowl of finest foods

for the chance to catch a mouse.

But the box you put out for me,

feels safe and warm and dry.

And I raise my eyes to thank you,

when I see you walking by.

I eat the food you give me,

I listen to your voice.

I may never be a lap cat, 

but thank you for offering me the choice.

One day I'll see the winter,

one day I'll feel the rain.

I may grow old not knowing,

there is freedom from this pain.

I know you've tried to help me, 

and although my days will end,

I may never be a lap cat,

but I know you are my friend.

author unknown