(no subject)
is it weird to read your own poetry and wonder, "what the fuck was I on?"
sometimes, the cat seems depressed.
a forlorn look, like a nudist getting dressed.
most the time she sleeps and then
eats and throws it up and chokes it down again.
you have to watch (quietly) all day
and sometimes night for her to take note and stay
to stare at the spot in our abode
that reminds how a maybe-life can forbode.
she muffs down on her couch depression.
she puts on that egyptian expression
but then it bends and furrows.
she tries to forget all she'll miss the coming morrows.
copyright faboo, yo.
sometimes, the cat seems depressed.
a forlorn look, like a nudist getting dressed.
most the time she sleeps and then
eats and throws it up and chokes it down again.
you have to watch (quietly) all day
and sometimes night for her to take note and stay
to stare at the spot in our abode
that reminds how a maybe-life can forbode.
she muffs down on her couch depression.
she puts on that egyptian expression
but then it bends and furrows.
she tries to forget all she'll miss the coming morrows.
copyright faboo, yo.