There you sit from atop your fuzzy throne,
Looking down upon your owner.
-An Ominous gaze indeed.
With green tinted eyes.
Wallowing in the scent of yourself.
Your owner throws your toy,
Expecting you to go get it.
Still you sit, gazing down upon them.
As instead they play fetch with themselves.
Bad kitty, kitty.
You were suppose to go get it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem