oh sweet round and plump tomato
hanging deliciously ripe on the vine,
how i'd like to pick you clean and greedily call you mine.
but alas your tempting smell is but a vile trick.
for the moment I taste your juice I become quite sick.
your juices are not sweet or true,
but dirty to the core.
you have released your wretched tricks that bring me to the floor.
bending low i spew you out as i curl and wince in pain.
how dare you be so bittersweet
to one who loves in vain.
1 comment:
Poor Erin!
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