The Cat

April 7, 2008
By
Sly and slim he creeps
Above he hears the birds weep
in the tall grass he lies

Waiting for his pray
He could be there all day
As he crouches down low

Getting ready to pounce
As quiet as a mouce
The deer didn't know

What he was in for
As he crouches down even more
He makes the leap

The wind in his fur
As he's running full speed
He is almost a blur





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