Untitled Creation

In a swampy marsh, where lily pads gleam, Lived a frog named Froggy, with a dreamy-eyed beam. With a croak and a leap, he'd hop all around, But one fateful day, a nasty fly he found.

It buzzed and it hummed, with wings all aglow, And Froggy, intrigued, thought, "Oh, why not give it a go?" With a flick of his tongue, he snatched up the pest, But little did he know, it wasn't his best quest.

For that fly, oh so vile, carried a germ or two, And Froggy, unaware, swallowed it in a chew. As the hours went by, Froggy began to fret, Feeling queasy and green, with a terrible threat.

"Oh woe is me!" cried Froggy, with a pitiful croak, "I fear that nasty fly has left me broke! My stomach's a-churning, my head's all a-spin, Surely this is the end, my life's about to thin!"

HE'S TOO CUTE TO DIE.