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.