Oh, Human!
You cannot groom yourself.
You cannot manage your own fur.
Though you are sometimes neat,
Your mop of hair
Has become mere prey in a cat's eyes.
The structure of my head
Wafts the wind away,
And my perked-up Batman ears
See right through unseen intentions.
I run. I leap.
When my whiskers find their calm,
I look back behind me.
Yet even then, my jellybeans
Are always preparing
For a sudden counterattack.
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