This detestable little gremlin hopping queerly in the road?
'Tis neither mouse nor finch nor little, gleeful creature that has showed
but none other than the frowning, putrid, hateful, monstrous toad
I cringe to think a creator enforce that life to him be owed
and I make a final decision to release him of his load
Steering steadily with certainty, aiming so that he'll be mowed
A fleeting calmness enveloped me when I sensed his guts explode
Then my thoughts turned to the slime-pit he once called his abode
There could have been a winsome future with his tadpoles that have growed
and now they lack a father, 'tis my head upon which his blood has surely flowed.
-April Compo
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