-A Poem for Whom the Luck Never Will Toll
Leaches flock to the new spawn.
The stream floods in clouds.
With each gasp,
The frog stumbles away.
His heart used up,
Time turning gray.
Ha Ha Ha!!!
They all whispered...
Each over looking small wonders.
He continued till water braised his chin.
Tasted moister of home.
His eyes looked down,
For nothing reached out.
Only starlit dreams,
Held his emotions so very stout.
With each gasp,
The frog stumbles away.
His heart used up,
Time turning gray.
Tiny childlike particles floated above,
Fish spoke even on a higher tone.
His eyes rested the body to the bottom.
Each foot clamped itself below,
On the uplook,
He saw.
No eyes, no looks, no wanderers.
And with each gasp,
The frog stumbled away.
His heart was gone.
And his time...
His time was turning gray.
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