“Bad cat”

O Bad Cat, black-and-white streak,  
Like trouble on velvet paws,  
You prowl through the house late at night,  
Bent on inventing new laws.

You leap on the counter, tail high—  
Ignoring my desperate “Get down!”  
And swipe every trinket aside  
Like a tiny, furry tyrant king crowned.

The curtains are ladders for climbing,  
The plants: a delightful buffet.  
My books bear your signature nibble  
And my socks? You've hidden away.

Your eyes gleam with criminal wisdom,  
A master of silent deceit—  
Yet somehow, by dawn, you're a purring  
Small angel asleep at my feet.

I scold while you blink, pure and guileless,  
I grumble, but still can't stay mad:  
For deep in your wild little heart,  
You're the best kind of wonderfully bad.

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