Today's prompt from Robert Lee Brewer: Write a "confession" poem. Here's a light little number I dashed off for today. It's in second person but could have been just as easily in the first.
Mixed Felines
you
confess you
don't like cats
you
find them
furry little brats
aloof,
demanding ,
full of themselves
knocking
things right
off the shelves -
until they nap
upon your lap
confess you
don't like cats
find them
furry little brats
demanding ,
full of themselves
things right
off the shelves -
upon your lap
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