Sam The Melancholic Cat

 
My man’s best friend was Sam the cat
He sat alone; alone on his mat
Circumstances had got him down
A glum expression, a constant frown
His life felt empty, full of strife
One way out, he’d take his own life

He found some pills under the chair
Someone left them lying there
He lapped them up, he wolfed them down
He waited feeling quite run down
Packet label, don’t know what it means
He’d overdosed on jelly beans
He now had more to undergo
One life gone and eight to go

He found himself a length of rope
This was now his second hope
He tied it tight around his neck
He’d hang himself but he didn’t check
He should have done the maths before
The rope too long he hit the floor
Neither swinging to or fro
Two lives down now seven to go

Another attempt to get to heaven
He’d stick his head inside the oven
It took some time to turn it on
Unaware it was an electric one
It powered on, his whiskers singed
“It’s too damn hot” he moaned and whinged
His face now had a sunburned glow
Three lives gone and six to go

A better way to end up dead
A well placed bullet in the head
The gun cabinet left wide open
For a gun his paw went groping
Fired it once, he’d found his metal
Shame it was a starting pistol
Totally deaf and feeling low
Four lives down now five to go

One more attempt, a bit uncouth
He’d throw himself right of the roof
A summersault, a triple twist
A screeched meow as he spat and hissed
He’d forgotten one of nature’s laws
Landing firmly on all four paws
Injury though, a broken toe
Five lives gone now four to go

Failures treated with sheer contempt
A bow and arrow, his next attempt
Fired straight up, his aim was stern
He’d lie spread eagled for its return
Above, the squawk was never heard
all he’d skewered was a passing bird
jealous now of a dropped dead crow
Six lives down now three to go

A drowning now, was what he donned
As he ran towards the local pond
He dug down deep and blindly pounced
He hit an island and strangely bounced
He managed just to freely float
He’d landed in a rowing boat
Up the creek no oar to row
Seven lives gone and two to go

A car exhaust was worth a try
“With poison gas I’m bound to die”
He sucked and sucked with all his might
His lips got sore his lungs got tight
Failed again despite his cunning
Works much better when the engines running
No nasty fumes, no ebb or flow
Eight lives down just one to go

Constant failure changed resolve
There’s nothing, his dying would actually solve
He’d now embrace life, changing his luck
He crossed the road home not seeing the truck
A screech of breaks, unable to scat
No longer a fat, just simply flat
Stuffed and mounted of life he’s bereft
My mans best friend with no lives left