making an assonance of myself with a boyhood wish

Yes, I am a fraud.
It’s a tragedy, really
I was five, wishing
to be a frog, praying
to be a frog, wanting
to be a frog, until
I said it out loud
and realized what
an odd thing it is
to dream of smooth flesh
of green fresh
of cool joyful diving in
of leaping towards
of singing to
the realization
that I am not
God or a frog
Yes, I am a fraud.

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