Teen Ink

   I was out one day for my usual jog,

(I go kinda easy, rarely full-hog)

When I happened to see, right there on the road

The squishy remains of a little green toad.



I thought to myself, where is his home?

Down yonder green valley, how far did he roam?

From out on the pond I heard sorrowful croaks,

Could that be the wailing of some of his folks?



I felt for the toad and his pitiful state,

But the day was now fading, and such was his fate.

In the grand scheme of things, now I confess,

What's one little froggie, more or less?