They say it’s paradise, to have healthy fruit in your trees.
Even if they grow up in a small pot.
Water comes and goes, as long as its owner wants to feed them.
The winds getting harsher more than the bees lingering over nectar.
Still, the flowers didn’t give it up.
Even if the small pot insanely strangles them, it provides comfort, they said.
Oh, how they miss being out of the sweetness.
The fruit ridiculously gets fresher from time to time.
With how thin but tight the pot is.
It’s the tenets of control working.
They say, “Don’t wake us, don’t wake us.”
They say, “We don’t want to stray away.”
They say, “Tell the wind to stop blowing us down.”
Can you hear how they ignore the ray of sunshine offer a forest?
This is just a story about a fruit tree declining the taste of field land.
