How Many Frogs?

When he appeared into my ignorantly fine world he wasn’t a part of my plan

He stood at the foot of a staircase with a tipped hat, a flower in his jacket and much élan

His hand didn’t stretch out; he didn’t quite say “My lady”

And the rest of the term I kept chasing him around, his naked legs were quite the delicacy

He hopped about as soon as I’d bend to touch his shining skin

but when I’d pretend to be with another he’d turn visibly green and carry a nasty grin

“What do you want from me?!” I asked, as I tried to hide my face under my blazer

“Croak croak” he goes, “croak croak”

I said “I don’t quite understand, what language is this?

But tell me, how many more frogs must a girl kiss?”

He was the knight in shining armor, when my heart was at war

Reeling from the man who had broken my soul, is that what men are for?

Determined for him to prove me wrong I laid out my all for him

I’d be the clarity to his protruding eyes; I’d be his seductress, his best friend at whim

But I should’ve known he thrived only in dirty little ponds

He did not love with the heart, he traded them like stock market bonds

“What do you want from me?!” I asked, as tears ran down my face

“Croak croak” he goes, “croak croak”

I said “I think I remember what language this is,

At the behest of another, you refuse me your bliss

Pray tell me, O’filthy one, how many more frogs must a girl kiss?”

There’s a reason why they breathe through their skin

They want to observe but not absorb all that is happening

And then there was the rain and they came out in abundance

Croaked and croaked and croaked, so I wore my ear plugs, to prevent myself the repugnance

Look at your curious lips, and your eagerness to run away!

Everytime I meet one of you I experience déjà vu/action replay

If I could live with myself, next time I would like to be the damned frog

While you follow me around, feel insecure, cry, ask me the same questions and slog