The skin of a fruit is lush
looks beautiful when fresh
the skin turns a sag
seems awkward in tag
yet the fruit inside craves.
Easy to peel a trousseau crinkled
the loose ends that hold the wrinkles
fall out as the snow flakes
none would wish to go in for a take
yet the fruit inside craves
The fresh one has a robe tight
gives a nice opposition in fight
hard to peel them
any one would hold it as a gem
yet the fruit inside craves.
That be the plunge in all
be it a fruit or any in a call
the wealth, the power and the glitch
would deliberately demand a pitch
yet the fruit inside craves.
It could be seen in a semblance
the one out for deliverance
would be an one of the infinite
could be nothing of the definite
as the truth inside craves.
Meenas Poems 