I was reading through a few poems I’d written years ago, and I came across this one. It’s kind of based on my cat Oscar who died about 20 years ago now, but I like to think he wasn’t as cynical as this.
Humans are fragile things
Humans are fragile things;
It’s why I make them my slaves.
They beg for my love and affection;
I think they’re pathetic and depraved.
I only want three things:
A bed, food and sleep,
And if a human hand takes one of those away,
It’s their soul that I shall reap.
I like my liberty too,
And slaying birds and rodents is fun,
I scratch the eyes of kitties that cross my path,
Then I lie out in the sun.
But humans are silly things;
Just puppets on a string,
And I’m ready to draw blood this morning
If in the shower my slave sings.