Truth

I started a new job Teaching kids art Because my old job Of saving the world Doesn’t pay much Except in the currency of pain Which becomes its own sort of wealth To those who know how to exchange it

On my first day of work I had to bury my art colony’s Beloved black cat Because the landlord’s cheap Under-the-table maintenance guy Kicked it in the face Simply for being in the way

Different people in the art colony Had different names for the beloved black cat But a few of us called her Shadow Shadow went into a coma The vet said nothing could be done But at least she wasn’t in any pain That anyone could see

The art colony Took care of her round-the-clock Dripping water on her tongue with an eyedropper Petting her, telling her she’s a good kitty Until our Shadow gently transitioned Into the night's darkest hour

After burying our Shadow the next morning

I headed off to teach the next generation About the value of art