The Lonely Toad Poem by Sophie Allyah

His home is too quietly dark
Where greens don't paint a spark
Where flies are too bored to come close
Even humans never go near for a boast

Unaware of his weariness situation
In a lifeless terrain of a mansion
He is a scraggy rugged toad
Clueless in a soggy manner, he bode:

"I am like a statue, a non-prowl
Those come flying, creeping and small
Will meet a fatal end in zippy"

Whoa, he is not even cuddly!

He waits every day for an edible species
That a mouth could fit a whole or pieces
This is his tiresome doomful life
Where everything is dreary and saturnine