Fat cats sit on mats
for kids to rhyme
and wile away the time
of day and I'm dazed
by the haze of my days,
'cause seeing clearly's
overused and I'm
amused by your subtle
clues you choose to drop
and hint that we're a pair.
You squint your eyes
at mine and find I'm
back inside my head
rhyming kid words
too cold for snow and
too old, so though
you think it's bold for
you to say, I was told
you'd stay to play, which
makes me not surprised
you'd spill your guts
through your squinty eyes.