Tuesday, 22 April 2014

The Little Devil- Garfield

When he lies down to sleep,
He's the treasure you'd like to keep,
A ball of fur, tail so magnificent,
Pretends like an angel that God sent.

Oh, but that's only when he's sleeping,
Wake, he's the devil himself; leaping,
about and running into yarns of disasters...
This cat was surely the best of the tricksters.

He crouched and jumped, sneered and scratched,
His way through life, escaping until the dead end.
That unholy day, he ran out yet again,
Into a yarn of trouble but got stuck in vain.

Tangled amongst the threads of fate,
He shriveled in the clasps of the iron grate, 
In the chaos, realization dawned a little late.
We did what had to be done, but it was far too late.

As his blood went cold, limbs went limp,
I could feel the life drain away from him.
But alas, I forgot to shut those green eyes,
In denial that, one day, everything dies.

My armor of pretenses broke, then, at his burial.
Till then no one could tell,
How much this little devil meant to me,
Nor how less of this world he wanted to see.

Try as I might, those eyes never did close,
While I filled the earth from his curled tail to his bleeding nose.
And he watched me throughout, till the very end.
Sigh! He was a angel that God himself sent.

While I sit here writing his last moments,
While everyone's heart he managed to break, vents,
He lies beneath a tree, cradled in its roots forevermore,
He sleeps for eternity ; Garfield the cat, is now...no more.