Neglect

The frog sat
Amongst the clutter and darkness,
Squashed under the girl’s bed,
Collecting dust.
A long, black curved line for a smile
Stretching from ear to ear,
Contradicting what it was really feeling…
Neglect.

The stubby, floppy arms and legs,
Squashed against the vast, green belly.
With a gumball bellybutton
Protruding from the stomach.
It’s body the colour of unripe bananas,
With pine green feet and hands.
Freckles scattered across
Stained white cheeks,
Giving the illusion
that the frog was happy,
When in fact,
All it was feeling
Was neglect.

Suddenly the drawer opened
A beam of light came pouring in
Bathing the frog in a golden cloud.
A hand reached in
And grabbed the frog’s leg.
The frog once again saw
the familiar face of the girl,
But she was older and mature.
She cradled the frog in her arms
like she would a baby,
The weight of a pillow,
A compact blanket,
Bringing warmth and happiness in one bundle.
Whoosh… Went her smooth fingers
as she stroked the frog’s cheek,
The crisp fur turned soft
as she hugged the toy to her chest.

Memories flooded her mind,
Of her ownership of the toy
from before she was born.
She gave the frog one final kiss,
And whispered, “Goodbye,”
Before placing the toy
Amongst all the others in the box.

She sealed it shut,
And placed it with the other rubbish,
Never to be seen again.
She took a deep breath in,
And all that she felt
Was the same
as her most beloved toy had felt
for so many years…
Neglect.