Moses

A cane toad so sorely misunderstood,
your intentions originally were good:
you were trying to do us a favor
by eating those bugs you so savor.

But there got to be too many of you
without predators to eat a few.
It’s not your fault it wasn’t thought about
when they brought you here without a doubt.

And you can’t help the toxins in your skin
when plants you eat hold poison within.
Besides, you really don’t do that much harm,
all I got was a rash on the arm.

People have other concerns with you now,
they want you to leave and don’t care how.
So quickly people seem to have turned—
a lesson of nature, harshly learned.

So from this point on, “Moses” you shall be—
it falls to you to set the toads free.
A prince is needed to lead them away
to a better place for them to stay.

But don’t look too hard, for I have a spot:
stay with me in the room that I’ve got.
There isn’t much space, but you’ll have some friends,
And a stream of food that never ends.

I’m not a princess or fit for a prince
but I would kiss you without a wince;
for you are a gentleman, noble and true,
the grandest toad that I ever knew.