Mr. snuffles was the runt of the litter.
We kept him simply out of sympathy,
When his cage mates savagely attacked him-
In the little blue castle he loved so much.

So we moved the two interlopers out,
And let him be the king of that blue castle-
We filled it with fluff, and poppy seeds,
And a wheel tainted with rust.

And so, we forgot about him,
And I guess him us-
He slept, emerged, drank, returned
And so did we.

Now and then, we’d play the spectator,
Beckon him with tap-tap-taps on the window
And, if we were lucky, he would grace us
With a protruding pink nose
As if to say “I am doing fine! ”
And return to his rest.

He grew old, and waddled out of his
Castle less and less frequently (although a conundrum when he did)
Covered from sole to crown with fluff,
And poppy seeds.
Eyes drooping, fatigued.

One day he died I guess.
We took him out back, and gave him
A little gravestone with “Mr Snuffles”
Painted on it, a blue castle-
So he could die how he lived.

I shed a tear or two, but he faded
Until now, I decided to revive him,
You see.
Although this poem is quite pointless,
The memory is reason enough.

Lazarus Knix

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-my-long-dead-gerbil/