The Kittens by Jan Hill

His mother held the empty dish
She met him at the door.
I'm tired of this, she scolded,
You can't feed them anymore.

Go out in the woodshed
And find a gunny sack.
Fill the bottom up with rocks
To a weight that you can pack.

Then pull out all those kittens
From underneath the shed,
And don't come home until you're sure
That all of them are dead!

The poor boy did as he was told,
Afraid his heart would break
As he dropped each kitten in the sack
Then headed for the lake.

Too soon he saw an awful sight
That flooded him with dread.
A man was standing by the shore,
With a gun pressed to his head.

Don't do it mister, please, he cried
Whatever could it be
That makes you want to take your life?
Explain yourself to me.

Well, first I lost my money
And then I lost my wife
So there's nothing left to live for
No meaning to my life.

The clever boy untied the sack,
He dumped the kittens out,
A trick that made the man forget
What his misery was about.

And soon the man was laughing
At the kittens hard at play.
So the boy cheered up to see him
As he put the gun away.

I wish I had the money
For a kitten just for me.
Well, you're in luck, declared the boy,
You can have these all for free!

Jan Hill 2010