There once existed a tiny spore named Zore,

Whenever he spoke he let out a loud roar,

It frightened the other mushrooms, they did not want more.

This was all prophesized and predicted by lore,

Words of the great magnificent spore, the one known as Zore.

But despite his fierce attitude, deep within him, existed a warm core,

He liked to drink soda, and taste test fresh bread,

One day a hunter stepped on him.

Aww, too bad he's dead!

What's this? Someone revived him?

Merlin the wizard revived the spore,

Now he is happy and free once more.

He shall roam the forests and let out his roar,

And annoy all the soothsayers, who thought he'd come as a boar.