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.