Meow, Wrote the Poet
If I were a cat
You wouldn’t be able
To read this poem.
It would be written
In a secret lovely tongue.
The one cats use.
Meow, I would write
With a long claw in mouse blood
Harvested fresh.
Meow, once again
With such anguish and desire
To make you cry.
But I don’t speak cat
So I can’t write that poem.
Which is a shame.
(Meow)
I have a cat. I sat down to write a poem. The cat sat down on me. This happened.
(Photo Credit: Lemonsandtea on Pixabay)
Jimmie Writes 