The cat of nine lives sits and primps.

With purrs and meows, it gets,

When it wimps.

Restful in a chair this cat sleeps.

Pretty much to itself though,

This cat keeps.


The cat of nine lives is confident and proud.

But is it a false security shroud?

Going where it please, not a care to this world,

Under any bed, this cat may be curled.


With nine lives, danger is just a game.

Chances, is what made this catís fame.

From rooftop and alley this cat roams,

But precaution and care,

Not known as one of its homes.


Does a cat really have nine lives,

Or is it just part of its tricks and jives?

Does death pass over this crafty beast,

Is that why life is a constant feast?


Donít each of us have this spirit,

Death is there,

But we wonít grip it?

Arenít we care free about where we lie,

Blowing out caution because we wonít die?


We even say God may exist,

But surely He wonít punish!

So today we play like a never-ending day,

Going and doing,

No matter the way.


Cat Of Nine Lives by Ronhales                                                                                                                                     Psalm 89:48

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