Happy little toads in a tiny pond
Trying to avoid the birds over head.
They make noises in their throats,
"Love me," they croak, "hate me," they
wail,
"Feed me," they whine, "kill me," they
dare.
Their lilypads jelly about the water,
And they fear their shadow,
But stare at me as I glide by.
Doubtless they feed on their flies and
crickets.
Misquitos are good too.
They don't worry about balancing
equations,
Or taxes, or clothes, or girlfriends.
English lessons are short and swift,
Me, you, food.
They are not ones to shy from singing or
talking,
And I don't think they ever fear loneliness,
Or God, or winter, or registration dues.
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