Who's frogs these are I think I know,
his factory is in the swamp though
He will not see me dumping here,
to watch his swamp fill up with woe
My stinky factory must make it clear,
to stop production a nightmare fear
Between the cat tails and lilypads,
the thickest water of the year
Frog gives his tiny tadpoles a shake,
to see if there is some mistake
The only other sound is his weep,
of foul wind and a disgusting lake
But I've got a mortgage to keep
and frogs to kill before I sleep
and frogs to kill before I sleep
(Copy Change Poetry: Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost)
