The cat woke up; all around him was black,
His paws and his head really smarted.
He felt on the verge of a panic attack,
And he was beginning to feel slightly fainthearted.
He squinted around for a saucer of milk,
Or some sign of where he was located.
But all he could find was a vial behind bars,
To where had his master vacated?
Guessing the outside of his dark confines,
Became quickly the only game he could play.
What should he look for, what were the signs?
Maybe his master was both there and away.
His mind felt like a wave about to crash,
The last thing he heard was the cracking of glass.
2 thoughts on “The Cat That Was (Not)”
I both really like this poem and really don’t like it.
I would ask you which parts, but I wouldn’t want to change the result.