FurballA Poem by Matt SayerBifold eyes that never blink, A flattened belly made to slink, Claws that hide behind soft fur, A siren's song: that saccharine purr. Morn's first rays and there you are, A headbutt lick: "Good morning Pa!" Then: Scratch. Sniff. "Food?" I sigh. We both know where your loyalties lie. But though I'm just your lowly serf, A privileged pawn who shares your turf, I'll bend my knee without regret, 'Cos you're my kitty, my purrfect pet.
© 2013 Matt SayerAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorMatt SayerMelbourne, Victoria, AustraliaAboutI readily and happily admit I am a technology addict; my shelves are as laden with flashy gadgets as they are with mountains of books. During the day I work in IT as an analyst programmer (essentially.. more..Writing
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