To Crazy Christian

Ernest HemingwayErnest Hemingway

1 min read · 12.5K reads

There was a cat named Crazy Christian
Who never lived long enough to *****
He was gay hearted, young and handsome
And all the secrets of life he knew
He would always arrive on time for breakfast
Scamper on your feet and chase the ball
He was faster than any polo pony
He never worried a minute at all
His tail was a plume that scampered with him
He was black as night and as fast as light.
So the bad cats killed him in the fall.
Ernest Hemingway
About the poet

Ernest Hemingway

Terse literary style of Ernest Miller Hemingway, an American writer, ambulance driver of World War I , journalist, and expatriate in Paris during the 1920s, marks short stories and novels, such as The Sun Also Rises (1926) and The Old Man and the Sea (1952),…

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