The Clawshank Redemption

My life was not always this easy.

Now my belly's full - all needs are met,

but don't be fooled;

existence has not forever been this breezy.
 

There was a time when I was imprisoned,

caged like a rat.

Lean and starving,

while my guards were fat.
 

Day and night I paced my cell,

soaked with the stench of constant danger,

after seeing too many fellow inmates

tossed in a box to leave with a stranger.
 

Over a year I languished,

my will nearly gone,

resigned to a deadly fate

I feared with each new dawn.
 

Then one day my routine was upended,

I was granted access to the "yard",

where a foreigner sat alone

with a look that was kindly, not hard.
 

But like all my long-lost friends,

I found myself roughly restrained.

This was it - I thought - The End,

before my freedom could ever be gained.
 

Has it been nearly two years

since that dark night of strife,

when certain doom was replaced

with a bright new lease on life?
 

Oh sure, my prison is now

simply much bigger.

But larger beyond imagination,

who knew, go figure . . .
 

I've broken free a few times,

but to my surprise willingly returned

to the shelter of these walls,

where I've never been spurned.
 

After all - who wouldn't?

I have the run of this place,

even being assigned a manservant

I now recognize by face.
 

He seems to get me,

sense my occasional need to be alone,

but is always there for comfort,

could it be this is his home?
 

Whatever the case may be,

I've decided to stay.

I suppose I've become institutionalized,

stripped of all desire to stray.
 

So, as my friend dictates this poem for you,

I think I'll nap - bathe - maybe nap some more,

and enjoy this Nine Life incarceration,

what more could a cat hope for?