The Bitter Truth

This lovely fruit that clings to tree: it beckons shyly, just to me. Not an apple to pick, alas; nor a fine pear--I almost pass. But then a perfume fills the air, almost too sweet for one to bear. And so I pick this lovely fruit and give to one in my pursuit. She thought it beautiful, at first. I wasn't ready for the worst. The face she made was new to me, her screaming fraught with witchery! She threw the beastly thing at me, and ran away: I watched her flee. What smells so sweet but tastes so sour? That, I now know, is lemon's power. What a faux pas I had just made. But it unmasked a grand charade. As lemon and the girl portrayed that which lies within and not displayed.