Juiced

On life’s tree
hang those hearts,
both bitter and tart,
rejected for their sour disposition,
were born as seeds
of acid inclinations,
just grew in the constant flow
from acerbic sap
rising out of roots
fed from lips to tainted and defiling.

But love’s farmer
sees beyond the obvious,
aware with the right sweetener
even a vinegary rind inside
can have a juice to drink.

How often
with the right care and effort
will one life
seemingly void of sugar
become a nectar
refreshing another’s thirst.