Fantasy-esque story about a misunderstood Mushroom Man.


Requested by: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/drakeasnowpaw/

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Mushroom men are rare, you see,
Though none are quite as rare as he;

A scraggly beard of moss he grows,
Exactly why, nobody knows.

Daffodils and lilies bright
Like to wake him up at night.

His crooked stem they like to mock,
And he’s been tripped while trying to walk.

Blades of grass, above him tower,
And keep him wandering for hours

By blocking out the guiding sun.
Because he is the only one,

The only one of his own kind,
Acceptance is quite hard to find.

Mushroom men are rare, you see,
Though none are quite as rare as he,

But Amaranth, her petals light,
Has gone to try with all her might

To help his weary roots retire
Without letting his heart expire.

Through winter storms, and biting cold,
Summer’s heat, and pushy mold,

She’s travelled in and out of myth
To grant him one reprieving wish.

Even though they were tyrannical,
All things but him that were botanical,

He wished nothing for himself to gain,
But only for the purest rain

To seep into the soil around
And nurture others of the ground

‘Cause mushroom men are rare, you see,
And so are gentlemen like he.

Though mushroom man has since passed,
His legacy forever lasts.

From every seed to each fox glove,
And every branch from up above,

Bluebells chime his selfless tale,
While morning glories, without fail,

Open wide on every dawn
To sprinkle dewdrops on the lawn

So other misfits just like he
Have water for eternity.