Mushroom

A simple, unattractive thing that grows insidiously on the bank of a river. Nobody looks at the mushroom and nobody cares to look. It sits day after day, a sad little rooted shape of nothing. But could they see it? As it sits there, with its sad head dropping to the side. It is grotesque and ugly, but more important, it is lonely. It is its own disgusting friend, as it sits alone among other, lonely mushrooms. And it is but a crime that the mushroom should be left unnoticed in its strife to be but the great dandelions that smile graciously at passerby’s.