Destitute

I don’t want the cat to eat this mouse,
dear sister please don’t tell the house.
It’s in this bowl, poor soul,
frightened and shaking, making
my small hands tremble
while you watch the crowd assemble.

I know we will leave this Sunday morn
after fearing each night and each dawn.
We’re dressed alike though not the same,
We’re escaping this cat and mouse game.