Plastic, a poem written by Dan Leicht at



written by: Dan Leicht



Red, bright, crisp, ready to be picked,
but instead is left. It becomes brown, bruised, mush,
it becomes rotten.
Someone passes by and notices the rotten fruit.
They have a wooden bat over one shoulder
and had already swung at several others. However, this time,
the bat instead falls to the grass. Two hands gently pluck
the rotten fruit from the tree, as not to damage it
further. It’s brought to a small house and placed into a bowl
of other fruits, fresh looking fruits. The rotten one is placed on the very top
as various paints are gathered alongside pure white, a blank canvas
awaiting the capture of imagination. Bruised, delicate to the touch,
the rotten fruit serves its purpose as the pinnacle of beauty
in a bowl of plastic decorations.

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