The Mango Poem by Shrutika Nagpal

Hidden in the branches,
From the heat of day,
Relaxed I lay.

Water flowed upwards,
From the roots,
To the leaves, and us fruits.

Then suddenly something trembled,
The leaves shading me,
Were removed from all around me.

A human hand!
“Ugh! ” in disgust, I exclaimed,
Wondering from where this atrocity came.

The phalanges came closer, and closer,
They twisted the stem above me,
Tugged, and then separated it from me!

There I lay, in the human hand,
And they examined if I was ripe enough,
They squeezed me, and said, “Darn, too tough.”

The next moment, I was in a plastic bag,
That jiggled all the way till the car,
In AC comfort, we drove long and far.

After what seemed like an entire season,
The car came to a halt, and I,
Was taken out, and put on a counter to die.

Perhaps I was being pessimistic,
But the next thing drove all suspicions loose,
Because, bada bing, bada bong, and I was Mango juice!