Clementine

If a vision of spring was created by hand

You would find it appear in the hand of a tiny man

He would hold a tiny clementine within his palm

And would promise to do it no harm.

Unfortunately the surface of a fruit so delicate

Was damaged and bruised,

Left broken and confused

Wondering how it could ever thrive alone, 

If spring forgot about clementines, where would they go?

A clementine should never be left with someone too weak,

Because the first layer must be peeled, week by week

Underneath this peel, this other skin

Revealed a tiny blonde girl stuck within

With a mighty fringe and powerful grin

Put on her war paint: leather, a bandana, or a strong glass of gin.

The things you’ll find about a clementine is that the juice is sour,

But if you handle the initial rejection, you’ll find out this clementine actually likes flowers.