Stories and Lies

The frog opened his eyes,

And he was still a frog. No prince

In this land, only green water in

The pond.

Who wrote such story? The frog

Wondered, who wrote such lies?

A kiss didn’t change anything,

A frog is still a frog.

Standing close by, still with her eyes

Closed, a young girl summed up

The courage to open them and see light.

Her lips still moist.

Seeing the frog on the floor,

Just as he looked before their kiss,

She cried a soft cry, maybe the frog

Needed more time.

So, they both stood there,

Waiting for magic and illusion.

 Wondering which stories are real,

And who would write such lies.

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