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Cat - Ugly - Pretty - Ugly

Cat – Ugly - Pretty - Ugly Ugly cat invades us in savage fashion to steal our dinner We’ll have none of that and kicked it out in the beginning But it keeps returning though, meowing, growling, and you know We now have an ugly cat or it has us Mean, vicious, suffers from malnutrition Looks at us like we’re delicious Cannibalistic tendencies It only eats raw meat Did I mention it’s malicious? Looks like cat’s been run over by a bus Super fussy fur ball of fluff and nasty stuff Ugly kitty has no place in our existence Lazy thing makes friends with mice It hates the smell of cheese and us And takes pride in being not so nice Cat has no clue of truth and beauty We don’t know just what to do Can’t figure out its longitude and “attitude” Kitty sits and wishes it was cuter Good luck with that It climbs on shelves, destroying things Concentrates on plates and dishes Climbing walls, tearing curtains Leaves mirrors for last to break To see how pretty he must be Most small creatures are sweet and cuddly Not the case with this feline Mr. Ugly Can’t get close or even figure out its sex With scratching claws, biting attacks, and flaws A feline fatality in the making for us all The monstrosity lost its meow with us somehow Only howls and growls without a cause Allies won’t even take it back It comes from a questionable lineage Probably won’t reach old age Deplete of social graces and education Lacking looks will send it to an early grave I would like to shoot it but fear it might shoot back We’re superficial like that And what type of person shoots the kitty cat? I mean, in the back

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 11/17/2014 3:20:00 PM
Hopefully he doesn't have any friends or relatives!! I loved the sharp wit. Outstanding.
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Earl Schumacker
Date: 11/17/2014 6:28:00 PM
Hi David, Thank you so much. I appreciate your comments. My wife is the cat person. I simply coexist with the fur. The cat in this poem does not exist so we don't have to worry about its friends and family. More importantly, I don't have to feed it. More than 90% of my poetry is invented. I make things up that did not or do not exist. Have a great day. Thanks again. Earl

Book: Shattered Sighs