This is the first page of my poems.  
Please note this material is copywrited.  
To use it elsewhere you must at least be 
honest and mention that it is mine.
Do not change the content.
Some material is graphic in content and
not suitable for everyone, where possible
they have been edited.
  Thank you.
  Harry H. Smith

Look at that old alley cat,
     What a life he's led;
The years that he's fought,
     The times that he's bled.

With scars from head to tail,
     His body so lean and gaunt;
The only place he has to live,
     Is a rat-infested haunt.

Look at that old alley cat,
     Coming up the way;
Little chance he'll ever have,
     Of a better life some day.

Cautious and independenat,
     He struggles from day to day,
Scraping out a living on,
     What fat cats throw away.

Now, he may let you touch him,
     Take nourishment from your cup;
But never be so naive,
     As to try to grab him up.

Take heed in this old alley cat,
     Look close, what can you see?
Just look how much that old cat
     Resembles you and me.

Lightning flash,
	Thunder boom,
Recall those days
	Of death and doom.

Dismal weather
	Rain a fallin',
Old sights and sounds
	Sets my skin a crawlin'.

Wish it would stop,
	But all's in vain,
I hate these days;
	Damn the Rain!

Pulse pounding in your head,
	Awaken with a scream;
Heart racing fast,
	But it's just a dream.

Skeleton fingers reaching out,
	Snatching at your clothes;
The awful stench of death,
	Clogging up your nose.
	
Something in the dark,
        Alarms in your head;
Awaken only to find,
	The grim reaper by your bed.

The slightest bit of noise,
	The merest breath of wind;
Instantly on your guard,
        With pistol in your hand.

Have you reached insanity?
	Do the demons scream?
Is this reality?
	Or is it just a DREAM?