A Woman-Would-Be-Pussycat

In Norway lives a woman who

Believes, she is (really) a cat;

So what is it she wants to do?

She wants to act exactly that!

Until she was around sixteen

Nobody knew she was a puss,

& seeing what it had to mean

She made it be more obvious.

She walks about upon all fours;

Instead of talking—she meows.

And if she’s in- or out-of-doors

She scampers after any mouse.

As mice she has the craving for,

(Yet, being slow upon her feet),

She didn’t catch a mouse before

But if she did she says she’d eat.

Of cat’s ears she has got a pair

On her head extra to her own—

Albeit wonder what she’d wear

For talking on the telephone?

Her palms are also padded by

A plush addition she has got 

To sneak up on one on the sly

(In order to be noticed not!)

I don’t know how exactly she

Can integrate this in her life,

And how she can expect to be

A fellow’s lover or his wife;

& I can’t fathom how she goes

Around about her “everyday”,

Considering she can’t be close

To living in the normal way;

She’s seeking a solution, tho,

Together with her therapist,

Albeit, yet she does not know

That any problem does exist.

Should she be positive about

Just where it is she may be at

She probably will work it out

And find she’s not a pussycat.