I Am Not Who You Think I Am....

I am mis-understood. No one knows the pain I go thru on a daily, and nightly, basis. I have always been different, and I have never fit in. I have always known that I never would.

They laugh at me, and mock me, and say it is all in my head, and that I am not normal. This I know too well, all too well. I am not normal. I am not like the others. I am myself.

They see Carrot, most Carrots anyway, and think, ah, juice, or perhaps soup or cake. Or a light snack, in lieu of potato chips. But that it is not me. I was not born, nor bred like most of my kind.

For you see, I am a Mandrake Root, born into the body of a Carrot.



I was meant to come to life, under the body of a Hanged Man, under the full moon. A wise women should have come to me, armed with the Secret of pulling my deep rooted self from the Earth, without becoming mad from my screams.

I should have been lulled by a beautiful maiden, who would sing the Old songs to me, I should have had only to reach out and embrace her with my tendrils, and known only joy.

I should have been used, as my fellows have been for centuries, in potions, and spells, and rights, that witches, good and bad, concoct on nights when there is magic in the air. I wanted to heal. Or to hurt.

I am a creature of mystery, and enchantment and of legend!!!! This I know. Deep in my heart, and in my soul. But I live like this. A Mandrake Root, trapped in the body of a carrot, for all time. I will never know all that I can be, nor fulfill my destiny.



I turn my back on your juices, salads, and soup.

I will wait for the night I awaken.

As myself.

Love and magic, Lorraine