For no one in particular
If science allowed it, what would you ask?
What am I, what’s the point of existing?
Is there a toad god, maybe, what’s my task?
Amphibious philosopher thinking
Does loneliness wash with you in your tray?
Does the sun in you deep thoughts elicit?
Perhaps you contemplate in other ways.
Like, why do the birds on you choose to shit?
Does your cage compare to that of the seeds?
The fence too tall to leap, trees out of reach,
In pondering, does your heart of stone bleed?
Do you crave for, or even think of speech?
Poor old Toad, your vacant stare like your voice,
What would you say, if we gave you the choice?
Please do leave me your thoughts and comments, in praise or constructive criticism, I appreciate them all and will reply.