Sliced Bread 2: The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread

something about being a cockroach is stimulating to my higher and more cultural side. funny how that works. anyway, that, combined with my concern about how perseid is coping with these odd circumstances, leads to this.

ahem.

perseid was once a girl
every lash and every curl
then redburn waved his magic hat
now she figures she's a cat
and as you'll learn if you just ask
no cat don't wear no mask

perseid can't fly or soar
she don't shoot fire anymore
she don't patrol, she don't fight crime
you find her sleeping all the time
she can't perform her favorite task
no cat don't wear no mask

she don't remember life before
it's a blur, a yawn, a cloud, a snore
she getting used to eating trash
the midnight yowl, the traffic dash
she lie out in the sun and bask
no cat don't wear no mask

but still there's something deep inside
cassie bay has not yet died
it wracks her more than you might think
and so miss kitty's took to drink
she draining every mug and flask
no cat don't wear no mask

not a hero, not a pet
she soak up all that she can get
the feline life do not agree
she need be who she use to be
till then she count her empty casks
no cats don't wear no masks