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:

Work, Work, Work

It’s what we do all day long,
Toil away to the sound of the gong,
Beats and breaks men who are so strong,
It proves they’re incredibly wrong.

Talk on the phones all night,
Fixing tech issues, try as I might,
Up until the break of first light,
God, I know this isn’t right.

My sanity is breaking under the stress,
My life is constantly filled with duress,
All I want is a tender caress,
Something to help me out of this mess.

Work, work, work,
All it really does is make me a great big jerk.


Follow along with my peculiar brand of insanity: