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MUSED
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Poetry


Ripe Means Rotting

Craig W. Steele

Unripened fruit abrades the tongue
while sweetness hints that rotís begun.
But who among the unschooled young
forsakes lifeís rotting, earthly fun?

Until we reach the middle distance,
our palates lack discerning taste
to comprehend, in our existence,
that rotting fruit yields sickly waste.

Yet what of those whose hearts desire
to linger on this mortal stage,
despite sweet ravage souls acquire
until they reach a ripe old age?