Freshly squeezed



Half a lemon
lying on the kitchen counter

tired and drained

its emptied veins
vulnerably exposed.

Tears
surround the rind,
a pool of bitter juice

but what’s the use?

Its pulp has been taken,
its purpose served,

this was the fate

it deserved.


*Written for a poetry class assignment where we were given a list of objects and a list of emotions and had to describe one of the emotions using one of the objects...


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