Hay Wastes His Life
Hay the frog was pondering with strife
How would he justify living his life?
Would he be remembered even by his wife?
His heart felt as heavy as a butter knife.
Hay would not hop, croak or sing.
He was stuck on rewind, the poor thing.
Bemoaning his choices, like a ding-a-ling.
His friends rolled their eyes at the Debbie downer king.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment