My bro wrote this poem in his Creative Writing class. In the wee hours my cat, Mr. Spuds, will start pawing your face, licking your nose, then start an abnoxious sniffing in your ear. So this is his poem:
Loving cat, pleasing to pat,
whiskers tickle my face, so.
Lick my nose, bite my toes,
let me sleep, my fuzzy foe!
Wake up, Sir, do you not hear my purr?
I am anxious to get on with my day.
Much to do, must bury my pooh,
and the morning is wasting away!
Hear my plea! ‘Tis the wee hours, see?
Are such things so important to you?
Obnoxious feline, all though you are mine,
I am loathing these things that you do!
Every minute, life’s a short ticket,
delight in things both big and small.
Existentialists we are, both near and far,
wake up and rise, and hear life’s call!
Ok, I’m up, distraught, fed up,
I’ll get you your food and bowl.
Forgiveness with ease, to those with flees,
for you are my heart and soul!
<-- Mr. Spuds
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