broken walls and narratives

A not so revolutionary blog about feminism, socialism, activism, travel, nature, life, etc.

A Poem about Toads

toad

The toad always frowns,

With its head to the ground

And glossy brown eyes

That look a little dead.

It can barely hop.

And can barely hope.

So, it shoves it long face with worms and dirt.

It is a creature of the earth.

Its eyes never look up to the stars

Or ahead to the distant horizon

Beyond to the dazzle of the city

It sees only mud

Or walls of reeds

And only speaks in sighs of resignation.

The toad’s world is danger, tragedy, and torment.

Love is a long rejection.

Life, a tall hurdle between sleep and death.

Frogs long to be princes.

Toads just long for kisses.

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: