The Poet: Stressing Over A Cat

Sitting down to write a poem,
After stressing all day over a cat,
You would understand if you know him,
He’s a little ball of orange fluff, and not very fat.

I work nights,
So, naturally, the appointment was mid-day,
I was scared, and time was tight,
I didn’t have much say.

Turns out he’s allergic to the tiniest flea,
His skin scabbed up and broke out into a really nasty rash,
A shot was all he needed, a big relief to me,
And not a terrible drain on my pool of cash.

Insomnia is here, so much for sleep,
Sometimes I really want to scream BLEEP!

Ryan S. Kinsgrove


Follow along with my peculiar brand of insanity:

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