I wish,
sometimes,
that I were not a lion.
I should rather like
to be a mouse, small and meek,
easily pleased
by a bit of cheese
and a place to sleep.
But lions roar
and demand more
and more.
Haughty cat
always knows
everything,
but the mouse, small and meek,
crawls into her hole,
simply happy to not have been
eaten
today.
I should be a mouse,
but it’s so much easier
to roar
than squeak.
Author notes
:]
