poems

Momo

 She’s skinny and small

And not handsome at all;

And as black as a coal bin at night;

She gets underfoot,

Will seldom stay put,

And acts like she has every right

 

To whatever she wants

Whenever she grunts

Or whimpers and cries at the door;

And if you do not

Serve it up on the spot,

She hastens to give you “what for.”

 

She picks at her food,

Can’t decide what is good,

Turns her nose up at what’s in her dish;

And when she does eat,

She will never repeat

Whatever her previous wish.

 

Yet despite all that’ s said,

When she’s finally fed,

This ancient old cat is all right;

So please understand,

Behind all this demand,

She’s still in some ways a delight.

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