My Fruit Bowl

I sit at the kitchen table lost in thought thinking of the people I have met All different in their own way Unique, isn't a strong enough word and nothing else seems to fit My eyes suddenly fall on my fruit bowl A wonderful sight of course standing in the middle of my table The hard and crunchy apples that wouldn't mind a fall The soft and gooey bananas that aren't given much care The tangy and juicy oranges We never know if they'll be sweet or sour Sweet and Sour, hard and crunchy, soft and gooey The people I have met today are no different from my fruit bowl.