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.