Honeycomb

There's a cat sits
in the window,
licking itself
languidly
in the sun,
in the sun.
There's a child
in the playground.
Looking up, she
suddenly
starts to run,
starts to run.
She starts to run.
She starts to run.

I'm not that cat,
cool and haughty.
I'm not that kid,
full of fun.
I'm not my father's
favourite daughter.
I'm not my mother's
only son.

Toss a coin and see what happens.
Look out, here I come.
Why is it never easy
to eat from your honeycomb?
Honeycomb.
Honeycomb.