The frog proclaims unabashedly
Within hearing of everyone
He brags that he has paid his dues
And did it even before the last hour,
Paid much more than what was worth
Every bit of what was owed and more
So, he held his head up high
Nothing else matters now
The day is a mockery for him,
Beneath an imagined sun,
Basking in delight in a shrouded glow
Owning the dark of night,
The cold of the puddle,
An empty inheritance in creased parchment,
He now croaks his incessant boast
In a pond where day refuses to come