by Stuart Sharp
If I never believed in fairies
Or in little people with wings
Why is the back of my garden
So full of the blasted things?
Why are they picking my flowers
And shooting with arrows at mice
Why are they eating my rabbits
Aren’t they supposed to be nice?
I called in a man from the council
To get my whole garden plot cleared
But he’d run away by late evening
Seems the problem was worse than I feared
So now I’ve abandoned my garden
Tried hobbies and interests instead
But the fairies are drunk on weedkiller
And now things have come to a head
I’ve tried disbelieving in fairies
And they’ve made my life living hell
So now I’ll try out a new tack
And believe in what eats them as well.
© 2007 Stuart Sharp
Stuart Sharp is a writer and postgraduate history
student currently living in East Yorkshire.
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