lying here under mushroom skies

what a wonder it is to find

all the pink, orange, the red, the white 

in these mushroom skies 

lying on the grass, hand in mine 

looking away from the skies

to see eyes wide, glossy and bright

 and such a beautiful smile 

for now it's only a dream as i fantasize 

and i wander in this fake life

so i guess we're all just lies, 

'cause we're lying here under mushroom skies 

Question of the Day: what's more satisfying to crack: knuckles, neck or back? 

Prompt of the Day: write a poem about the journey of a cloud.