Learning To Love Life

If the world were bushes and each of us grew fruit,
You'd think me insane for wanting to be sweet.
Rotten and icky and spotten and sticky is astute,
Because no noses will sniff near that bush to eat.
In the end, that gnarly fruit is free from hands above,
While the sweet one will be picked ripe and thus slain.
Then after the end, which one will be spoken of with love
When the pickers pick and till fields to plant again?
Rotten berries are only rotten because of thorny wood,
And bland berries are bland because they're lost and cold.
Maybe I'm just sweet because it makes me feel good,
But I tote a tangy nip too, devilish fun for the bold.
I'll be plucked and enjoyed and endure much strife,
That's part of living, and I'm learning to love life.

Reviews

[Writergurl]

Love the ending of this write, nicely written.
The last two lines stand out.

[Cass Ashe]

Very glad you enjoyed it and thank you for reading.