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Finally, a blog post that proves that I can’t draw or write poetry.
When they told us we could decorate the back room for the day
The vision of you with bright orange and yellow fur came my way.
A proud cat with a green top hat and clover.
It was obvious your smile would win the store over.
I was not prepared, however, for the creature I did create
I will try not to use a word so violent or strong, such as hate.
Your fur, while blotchy tells the story of a terrible disease,
Like ring worm or chicken pox, 10,000 tiny stings by 10,000 tiny bees.
Your arms, one fat, the other slender and lean
It is all too obvious that you belong on the back streets of Killeen.
Your picture is hung on the board in the back
Giving all who walk by a
minor serious panic attack.
If I knew your existence would cause such riot and trouble
You, I would have kept in my head to avoid all the rumble.
I am so sorry I created your blotchy physique into existence
I swear to never create again without more artistic assistance.
All jokes aside from your picture (and this poem) being lame
One thing is for sure, that back room (or this blog) will never be the same.