A Fairy Tale

He sat before the mirror, rocking
Smoking his pipes, clutching his stick.
A butterfly fluttered its wings inside the mirror
He waved his hands, into a fairy tale

The butterfly flew around, innocence,
Only good it knew, as it flew from flower to flower
Then with a greenish haze, feathers sprout on its wings,
The butterfly grew into a parrot infront of his eyes

The parrot repeated his words,
It mumbled what the world threw at it,
The parrot grew, mature enough to understand,
Feathers turned to fur, and a four legged creature it became

It was cunning, as it hid itself inside the hazy dream,
It learned the ways of the world, cheating its fellow being
The haze in the mirror hid it away, safe from danger
But how long would the youth last, as the fur disappeared

He saw himself, seated with the stick, and the pipe
Helpless as he sat by the mirror, gazing into its depths,
Wizened, he knew the world, he knew its ways,
And then he waved, death, a fairy tale