The Faire And The Mushroom Poem by Victoria Black

In the middle of the grass, stones, trees & leaves,
There sits a lifeless mushroom,
Waiting for a faire to sit upon its head,

The faire fly’s onto the mushrooms head and thinks,
The kids & people she’s seen,
The things she’s stolen from people’s beds,
The lies she’s created in people’s heads.

She thinks days on end without a move,
She goes through them just like sheep,
Till day is done.

Then she’ll take one bite from the mushroom she sits upon,
Its as if she can start all over again,
No memories of the past,
Just thoughts of new.

She’ll fly away,
One day she’ll return to her lifeless mushroom,
Then clear her head all over again.