I search along the back streets,
for an enclosure and a bin.
luck is sometimes with me,
oft times there's nothing in.
I have not got a lot of choice,
for hours I do my best.
covering many distances
in a peripatetic quest.
Pangs of hunger drive me on
as most heights I can reach;
yet with D.I.Y.security,
some fences I can breach.
I wander here, I wander there
in purposeful pursuit;
avoiding missiles aimed at me,
as I traverse the same old route.
Unfortunately scrawny,
I will not be getting fat.
yet some folk do take pity
on this poor homeless cat.