Crushed
An orange’s tale is quite grim
At the hands of a man’s whim;
Just when the juice is at its best,
It’s either pressed or pulped to zest.
This sacrifice is not in vain -
For every loss there is a gain.
Once thirst is quenched and palate’s pleased
Let’s raise our glass to freshly squeezed!
June 17, 2020
Copyright © Margarita Lillico | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment