I stared for awhile

At this red tomato

Which knew nothing

And had nowhere to go.
 

I watched it

Shrivel and mold

As every day

It seemed to grow increasingly old.
 

It was meant to shrivel

To die and be eaten

But never was it meant

To sink into the ground and be beaten.
 

It did not matter

What it had in store

As all it did

Was sink and grow no more.