Poetry Wars—Who Runs This Place!


The winds within do make me spin

from dogs that bark and cats that hiss

at who knows what? I only guess.

My life is one big happy mess.


Yes, I complain they will escape

when given baths. My floor’s a lake!

But when it comes to feeding time

I’m scratched and nudged if I’m behind.


The hurricane that’s in my brain

won’t let me sleep and I remain

awake again from doggie tongue

that last ingested kitty dung.


The sandstorm that is now my bed

Is scratching at my toes and head

Who runs this place? What a disgrace

it’s no one from the human race!


I often say (on every day)

that I won’t let them get away

with robbing me of bed and meat!

I’m met with cuteness…and defeat.