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.
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