Sta.sh
I walk into the den, my paws are cold,
My single kit is there, looking up with big eyes, fearful and wary,
"Can we talk about some things on my mind?
The thoughts are directed me, and they are angry."
So without waiting, I curl up next to him,
His eyes are huge- there's alot in that head,
I don't talk, and the light goes dim,
I feel now it's better to listen then talk in the mossy bed.
"I'm sorry for begging for attention,
And being so annoying about it."
"Well, if you ask me, little bundle of action,
I think a little more attention to you would benefit."
"I've promised everyone a great story,
And I've haven't worked on it for months."
"Take your time to make it finely,
Some of the greatest arts of the words called stories have taken years by the seventh."
"I've promised everyone all these things they paid for,
And so much time has passed, and I've hardly worked on them."
"Art takes time so it is not poor,
So take as much as you need, else it will become mayhem."
"I've been a liar,
And haven't been working on alot of things."
"Those words are a faint unreal blur,
You're lying to yourself- don't feed the internal evil beings."
"I've been lazy, having fun insted of working."
"You are meant to have fun in life, so stop beating yourself."
"Im sorry
for
being
me."
"What?"
"Little kit,
there is
nothing wrong
with being you
so please, for me,
stop saying sorry to me."
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