The cat is on the wall
He yawns and stretches far,
He holds his head up tall
And keeps me in a jar.

I'm trapped within my prison
My breath fogs up the glass,
Hope it's a dream or vision
As people slowly pass.

I hope the cat is sleepy
Or has recently been fed,
'Cause I find his gaze quite creepy
And I think he wants me dead.

I finally get a feeling this won't take me very far,
In a poem with a cat, on a wall, in a jar.