Fruit

If I could hold a piece of fruit,

A piece of fruit from the Garden of Eden,

I would gaze upon its face,

With which I call the greatest grace,

This piece of fruit would shine so bright,

As to be the brightest star in the night,

This piece of fruit would be so sweet,

That it causes my face to look like a beet,

I would no longer hunger,

But for the presence of this fruit,

I would no longer thirst,

But for the life water of this fruit,

I would waste away in time’s own barren plains,

If I could grasp but a second of a vision,

I would break all my morals in a moment of a second,

If I could just catch a wisp of such perfection,

Yet this perfection,

Of such great complexion,

Would be wasted on me and everyone.