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.
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