The Cat

A little demented poem about a cat

Roses are black

the cat's in the sack.

They chopped off its head

and now it is dead.

They throw it in the pool

just to keep it cool.

It floats to the top

as its eyes start to pop.

Its body floats around

then it starts to drown.

They bury it in the ground

without making a sound.

The blood on the path

will bring back its wrath.

It comes back from the grave

to get those who misbehave.

Their hearts are cut out

as they give a shout.

Now they are dead

and the cat has been fed.

Reviews

[Annette Jay Sweeney]

At first I didn't want to continue reading because it was harsh, but I saw how you seemed to be using this. What an interesting poem.