Life gave me a lemon,
I don’t know why,
But I took it without question,
And then I squeezed it dry.
I poured in scoops of sugar,
Stirred it nice and slow,
And watched the sweetening fade,
Into the pallid lemonade.
I grabbed myself a glass,
Because I couldn’t wait any longer,
To taste the precious nectar,
Life had offered.
I brought it to my lips,
Licking them in anticipation,
Greedily, I gulped the liquid,
Only to discover it tasted rancid.
“What’s this? ” I said in shock,
“My lemonade tastes like muck! ”
I added sugar, stirred it again,
Tried once more, almost ended up dead!
It’s gross; I can’t stand the flavour,
This lemon Life gave me,
Must be some sort of sick joke,
So I turned to Life, and I choked.
“Oh Life, why did you give me this lemon?
What did I ever do, to deserve this unsavoury fruit? ”
Life frowned at me, picked up the rind,
And Life said, “This, you idiot, is a lime.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem