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A Poem About My Cat

He's watching a butterfly.

The slow rising and falling of his chest.

The twitches of his tipped ears at sounds.

The flicking of the tip of his tail, 

Annoyance dripping from his mouth.

My cat is more strange than a scarecrow

Who is standing in the middle of a room,

Or a mime who talks.

He's more vicious than any other cat

Which drives fear into me most nights.

He's so agile, yet clumsy 

and that is highly amusing to me.

As if I could let this cat go, 

My father tells me that once he's fully grown,

He's out of here.

But I know there's no truth in that statement.

Because even though he may cause harm to me,

My family, animals outside of our home. 

He will always be my little Bean, and 

I love him always.