Days Are Numbered

November 9, 2007
By Danielle Shabin, Congers, NY

He sleeps with one eye open,
Underneath the city stars,
Another hard knock alley cat,
Whose never been counted on,

Hes been gutless before,
A cat hissing and shrieking at the bottom of a burlap sack,
clutching the remains of flesh,
Searching for the truth he cant firmly grasp,

Why is there more than one way to skin a cat?
The answer is two timed by the past,
Its the third reason why he ran away,
sold his soul by the fourth of july,
Watched his gang shot on channel five.

6,6,6, goes his dance with the devil,
Seven deadly sins live within,
Washed the blood off his hands for the eighth time,
Wasted another one of his nine lives.

And the tenth?
well the tenth is one too many,
Curiousity killed the cat you know,
Took about ten seconds in all,
Out of the jacket,
finger on the trigger,
bullet erupting,
rupturing his chest.
At what he does best.

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