Little kittens in a box I saw when I was walking by,
A dirty street where shady people leave their dreams, I don't know why,
And when I look into their eyes, I see myself inside a shell,
Shaking at the thought that I'll be all alone down there in hell.
Now I don't claim to be a saint and as much as I want to keep them,
My life's just full of my own affairs, I'm afraid I can't protect them.
So there they stayed, inside a box, beside the street without a roof,
Where I'm afraid the rain will fall, and all of them will drown, like ~poof!
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Of A Count
PoetryThis book is not suitable for audiences with zero percent sense of imagination and a mental age of two and below. I'm not really a great poet, just a guy who knows how to hold the pen and write the twenty six letters of the alphabet. But I like thin...
