Monday, December 06, 2004
A poem for a monday
His cat is dead
He thought his sister was making a jest
When she called to tell him to bring a shovel
Fingers blistered
A packet of Sunburst lollies,
minimum chips
and a 6 pack of Carlsbergs
A wake for the gone
I hope there is a Cat Heaven.
He thought his sister was making a jest
When she called to tell him to bring a shovel
Fingers blistered
A packet of Sunburst lollies,
minimum chips
and a 6 pack of Carlsbergs
A wake for the gone
I hope there is a Cat Heaven.
