Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Blackie the cat has gotten old, it's time to say goodbye, my heart is broke, after all the pleasure he gave, 17, long years, we miss him now , and he's still here. What's it going to be like, looking at an empty chair. ! On death row, he sleeps, he dose'nt know ; bliss a date was chalked down, a reprieve turned up, Cold feet, and trembllng hands we called the Vet, " Can you wait till next week, he is still our pet ". Arthritis, Diabetes , Cataracts , and that's only me , the cat is worse, he can hardly see. All his health problems, can disappear, when he looks up, and Miow's in your ear. By Holly Barrett
0
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 11:29 AM UTC
Indecision, life or death
Blackie the cat has gotten old, it's time to say goodbye, my heart is broke, after all the pleasure he gave, 17, long years, we miss him now , and he's still here. What's it going to be like, looking at an empty chair. ! On death row, he sleeps, he dose'nt know ; bliss a date was chalked down, a reprieve turned up, Cold feet, and trembllng hands we called the Vet, " Can you wait till next week, he is still our pet ". Arthritis, Diabetes , Cataracts , and that's only me , the cat is worse, he can hardly see. All his health problems, can disappear, when he looks up, and Miow's in your ear. By Holly Barrett
Written by
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 11:29 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem