Avacado

A time when once was fresh

given solitude to possess

ripe color of summer flesh.

While others look with vacant eyes,

I relish the sheltered bliss

look upon with none despise.

Darkened skin reveals

nothing but sheltering scales

waxey as trodden heels.

Sheltered deep within

Darker, strengthened on

an unforgiving sin.

So too is all,

that which is still

and solitary call,

Growing,

rotting,

growing.