Lounging on cutting board,
a tomato and a pickle.
“I think we’re doomed to get chopped up
and i don’t think it will tickle!”
The crimson fruit turned to the veg
and took five long deep breaths.
“I think that we should spend this time
and not foresee our deaths.”
The shiny veggie to the fruit,
“Oh! Lets not think about our end.”
He sniffed back dill tears and forced a smile,
“At least I have a friend.”
“Dill, together we’ll die,
like brave produce we be,
and we’ll treasure this friendship
between you and me.”
You should have learned after
hearing my bitter sweet ballad,
that a life without friends is a rotten salad.