Claw (an acrostic poem)


Cat climbed up the back of his chair to perch on the top like it’s on a throne

Leaving small rips in the fabric in its passage

And he hated when the feline did that

When the cat ran away though, he reminisced about every hole

Curls (an acrostic poem)


Cutting her hair, at one time, would make her cry. It was such a horrible experience

Utter fear would grip her upon sitting in the chair knowing she was at the mercy of the hairdresser

Red hair ringlets defined the core of who she was and were her pride and joy, so she was so particular

Letting the electric razor zoom across her scalp, she smiled.

Suck it, cancer! She would grow back stronger.