I live inside a small glass cage,
With plastic limbs and leaves.
There is no sun,
There is no rain,
There is no cooling breeze.
I'd love to go a courting,
But there's no one here like me.
My life began in a breeder's tank,
Never seen a real tree.
Probably wouldn't recognize one,
If it fell on top of me.
I spend my hours motionless,
Wishing I was free.
When I came here from the pet store,
There was another in poor health,
But he passed away the second day,
On an overheated shelf.
The Big Hand took his body off,
And left me by myself.
Huge faces many times my size,
Peer into my prison flask.
How nice for them; they're entertained,
But I am fading fast.
I'm just some human's knick-knack,
Inside my cage of glass.
I could have lived in a forest,
And climbed the tallest tree.
I could have had a girlfriend,
And made other frogs like me.
I could have eaten tasty bugs,
But it was not meant to be.
And come the day I breathe my last,
Inside this glassy wall,
They'll take my body out of here,
To the bathroom down the hall.
The toilet lid's my funeral bier,
And I will float in state.
The Big Hand will pull the chain,
And flush me to my fate.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
I live inside a small glass cage,
With plastic limbs and leaves.
There is no sun,
There is no rain,
There is no cooling breeze.
I'd love to go a courting,
But there's no one here like me.
My life began in a breeder's tank,
Never seen a real tree.
Probably wouldn't recognize one,
If it fell on top of me.
I spend my hours motionless,
Wishing I was free.
When I came here from the pet store,
There was another in poor health,
But he passed away the second day,
On an overheated shelf.
The Big Hand took his body off,
And left me by myself.
Huge faces many times my size,
Peer into my prison flask.
How nice for them; they're entertained,
But I am fading fast.
I'm just some human's knick-knack,
Inside my cage of glass.
I could have lived in a forest,
And climbed the tallest tree.
I could have had a girlfriend,
And made other frogs like me.
I could have eaten tasty bugs,
But it was not meant to be.
And come the day I breathe my last,
Inside this glassy wall,
They'll take my body out of here,
To the bathroom down the hall.
The toilet lid's my funeral bier,
And I will float in state.
The Big Hand will pull the chain,
And flush me to my fate.