By Eleni Andonatos Schellenburg
I smell something nice; I smell something great:
It’s the trash from the snacks and the food on my plate!
Forgive me, please feed me, I won’t wait forever.
On the desk, on a chest, I’ll eat it wherever.
Once I hunger no longer, I’ll jump on mother’s bed.
Right where she rests, or I’ll groom her instead.
Or I’ll sleep in the void where she keeps all your crap.
It’s a great place to take a break with a nap!
Sometimes, I sit on some silky chair
To ponder: “should I wander in a lawn with fresh air?”
Although all exits are locked to me,
Sleeping in your arms is my favourite place to be.
Dawson's Creations Literary Journal 