Poorly Cat

My cat wasn’t feeling very well, so I wrote a poem for him. Here it is.

 

My cat is ill

and it makes me sad,

and I wonder if I’m a bad

human being.

 

I think it’s pretty clear

I’d do anything for him,

so this must be

what it’s like to be

a parent.

 

Unfortunately,

sometimes

you love something

too much;

Bukowski said

you should find it

and let it destroy you.

 

I’d rather be

destroyed by love

than left alone

like a child

without a mother.

 

Little Biggie,

now you’re hiding

in the corner

and I don’t think you want

any attentions.

 

I swear

it’ll be

alright,

my friend,

sometimes life

likes to kick us

in the nutsack.

 

Don’t worry,

I still think

I love you,

even if

you left your shit

on the blanket

you sleep on.