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Fungi
Some are good some are bad,
In the world of fungi none are sad.
They care for nothing and just sprout,
Nothing affects them except drought.
Among the dead leaves and the branches,
Lived a toadstool in one of the darkest trenches.
Though it lived in dark,
It had its own spark.
It glew day and night,
It looked very pretty emitting its own light.
Green fluorescence seemed so bright,
Hidden inside the trench the jwel didn't look right.
Many days after a long nap,
It decided to take a step.
It tried to move but could not,
It envied the movable animals a lot.
It said to itself,
“Oh! I lived all these years by myself.”
“I' will not spread my spores to die in dark,”
“Let them be free and the sky their only ark.”
In the world of fungi none are sad.
They care for nothing and just sprout,
Nothing affects them except drought.
Among the dead leaves and the branches,
Lived a toadstool in one of the darkest trenches.
Though it lived in dark,
It had its own spark.
It glew day and night,
It looked very pretty emitting its own light.
Green fluorescence seemed so bright,
Hidden inside the trench the jwel didn't look right.
Many days after a long nap,
It decided to take a step.
It tried to move but could not,
It envied the movable animals a lot.
It said to itself,
“Oh! I lived all these years by myself.”
“I' will not spread my spores to die in dark,”
“Let them be free and the sky their only ark.”
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