I'm so sorry.
I know you didn't want to die,
But what choice did I have?

The people where I live
Feared you as a monster.
Admittedly, you did eat the cats.

But I knew you didn't mean anything.
You just wanted food.
Perhaps even a home.

But I was picked
To kill you or leave forever.
It came down to you or me.

So, I picked up my weapon,
One that I fashioned out of a big stick.
Seeing as I'm writing this, it seems it was enough.

You're gone now, I do mourn you.
But now I must go back
And live with the real monsters...