This poem is dedicated to my 'widdle fwiend' Laura. The first time I met her, the only thing I said Was 'death of a kitten'. Since then, its kind of been an inside joke. For Laura!
We sat on the benches.
My sister was wearing black.
I know she loved him with all her heart,
but he ain't coming back.
I thought he was useless.
I thought he was worthless.
I tried to drown him once.
Oh, boy was that a mess!
His name was Buttercup.
He looked like he had little white mittens.
I hated him, but my sister loved him.
So for this reason, I will never forget the death of this Kitten.
