Shall I compare thee to my cat Gizmo?
Thou art more dopey and more lean.
Rough winds do knock you off the window,
And your fur hath much less a silky sheen.
Sometimes too bright your yellow eyes do shine,
And often is his black complexion dimmed.
And every glare from glare and every whine,
Perhaps because he got his little nails trimmed.
But thy eternal coolness shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that hair thou ow'st,
Nor shall any cat try to take your place,
Though in eternal cat breath stench thou grow'st,
So long as mic can run and fish can swim,
So long lives you, and this makes me grin.
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