He was born a maggot
And he grew into a fly
Until my cat got hold of him
And then he had to die.
We celebrate his passing
With a vigorous fist bump
For he reminded us our fat cat
Can manage still to jump.
Tag Archives: Flies
Play To Your Outs
If I played a chess game
With some super-intelligent flies
I think I’d probably win
On account of superior size.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 