It’s oozing fingers slither forth,
To grip its victims in a vice.
They struggle hard but soon they fail,
And fall into the trap like mice.
Without direction nor a goal,
Brainless victims of its charms,
Bred to spit back out their food
That has no substance, they, unarmed,
And unprepared to live a fruitful life
Will venture forth into the world,
As wicked minions of a wicked lord,
And its triumphant flag, unfurl.
The toad that gloats on triumph gained,
Will fall as prey to its own device.
And frogs will crush him, stupid and dull,
To join the fallen ranks of his own mice.
And suddenly, the world will be
A flower young and ready to unfold.
Yet undefined its treasures be,
One must be quick, one must be bold,
To take the leap and to create
A novelty worth dreaming of,
A dream worth leaping for,
A leap worth living for.
For life is longer than one thinks
And mindless plodding cannot be
A satisfactory claim to one’s existence
Nor, to earth’s most precious energy.
The frogs will reign because they know
To seize and grab for opportunity.
Create, inspire, share their aura
Of thirst to try, to do, and to enjoy.
