From his cushion kingdom my cat peers down
With his head oriented towards me
If he could he would sport a cat-like frown
But his stark feline gaze is all I need
He’s doing that thing that he tends to do
When he forces all the weight of his head
To the back of his neck and threatens to
Knead his claws into the sheets on my bed
No one wants to see that mess when you clean
And that asterisk when you walk away
Yet you give me a look that I’ve oft seen
As if judgments you are dying to say
But then who am I who tries to prove that
I am conspired against by a cat
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