As adolescence slipped away, the orange clang to her branch, afraid to fall.
To fall would mean to be exposed,
Vulnerable,
To see the Earth below.
A world where her skin would be peeled,
Her untouched flesh consumed.
She was not ready for the future that bloomed.
Her competition was fierce;
The green apple, banana and pear.
She thought to herself, “how will I compare?”
“Oh, to be an Apple, who’s skin is bright and sweet,”
Oh, to be a strawberry with flesh the colour of heat,”
“Even the lemon is candied to disguise the bittersweet.”
But the orange had forgotten that all fruit grows rotten,
And although the future can never be known,
There exists a difference between falling and letting go;
Of the fear of the unknown.
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