The "pretty weird"

The "pretty weird" sits like a bloated frog
on a rock in the centre of town
surveying the scene as if it's a king
and ruler of lesser mortals.

It croaks from a platform above the norm
donned as it is in regal attire
and delivers its message forcefully
to those not yet in the know.

I listen like one determined to be
educated in the ways of its world
and the croak echoes day in, day out,
until I succumb to my perceptions.

I must tell you now that perceptions are based
on what I surely do not understand
because, as you know, frog language is meant
for frogs of the world and not me.

The "pretty weird" sits like a bloated frog
just to annoy the hell out of me
and has no agenda besides to confuse
and mix up my realities.

Don't listen to frogs; they're as weird as can be
and "pretty" can hardly apply
but beneath what seems quite gross and unreal
there must be something outstandingly grand.

I'll no doubt know more when I've... croaked!