A poem inspired by my wife’s first short story that she’s still working on… and no, this is nothing like her story, I say inspired BY, not an accurate reflection OF, you silly wankers…

Warning: the following poem contains extremely harsh language. Well, not harsh by my standards, but hey, I’m not the soul arbiter of good manners, so your mileage may vary.





Don’t Fuck With Fairy

I saw a pretty fairy boy,

his wings were bright and hairy.

I tried to show my mother but

she said, “Don’t fuck with fairy.”


I went down to the river bank

where pixies like to tarry.

My father come up behind me

and said, “Don’t fuck with fairy.”


I danced with elflings bright and tall,

the music did us carry.

When home I went at dawn’s first light

gran yelled, “Don’t fuck with fairy!”


And now I stand with hand in hand,

an elven lord to marry.

He takes me to his chamber dark

and says, “You’ll fuck a fairy.”

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