An Ode To Rotting Fruit

Once vibrant, sweet, ripe, in your prime

You learn that nothing escapes the passage of time

It softens rinds

While browning limes

It sours “sweet”

Blemishes the brightest clementine

I’m sorry, fruit

For leaving you alone

Excited upon your purchase

Only to disown

Discarded you with the trash

Outside my home

But you never once complained, stalwart in your conviction

To endure the fate of your icy prison

I should never have taken you for pome-granted

I wish our moment never had to tamar-ind

So for every seed from henceforth, planted

And every smoothie that I blend

I promise that I’ll not ever let fresh fruit get rotten

I promise I’ll be a better man-darin

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