Kittens have no souls.

  Sunshine’s lost in wells.

  It bothers me,

  That depth is all misery.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Complexity is blue,

  Don’t breathe. Take a plunge.

  Your heart is the well. Dip in the pen.

  Art is made with lines in the skin.

  But now I lie here bleeding, cold, and broken,

  Doesn’t that sun look so nice?

  Much like a purr soft-spoken.

  Maybe it is all contrast?