Paper and pen, <br />a poem to write, <br />until a white claw, <br />grabs the pen from my hand. <br />I pull the pen towards me, <br />towards him, he, pulls too, <br />shaking his whiskers, <br />narrowing his eyes, bright blue. <br />The pen flies rolling <br />along the floor, <br />my cat runs for it, <br />and so I run for both. <br />Some deep thoughts, <br />my poem meant to reflect, <br />but my cat, <br />a true fine poet, <br />managed to write this poem, <br />in his own way. <br /> <br />La Finita<br /><br />Laa Finita<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unusual-poet/
