Ripe from the trees sit in a pail.
Golden-skinned and sun-kissed to a tan,
Picked and packed before the day began.
Grown from children with tender care,
They grew to be ripe, strong, beautiful and fair.
Sweet to the taste and soft as best creams,
Yet the one who tended them is not what she seems.
Tended and cared for by Rosita, my dear,
Look at her closely you'll have something to fear.
Though she is beauteous and peacefully still,
Behind her dark eyes hides a strong kind of will.
Within her days she's seen the whole world,
She's watched as humanity buckled and curled.
Watched brave men wither and die on the vine,
Her eyes with these memories sometimes shine.
Oh, what a past Rosita has had,
A quiet and happy one but tinged with sad.
Torn by heartache that none of us know,
The very thought of it would bring your spirit low.
Loving care is all she has now to give,
But with it she's helping others learn to live.
Breaking heart or mended true,
She's helped me and can help you.
Peaches and oranges fresh for sale,
If you sit close you might hear the tale.
Of a girl named Rosita with a terrible past,
But now she's caring, peaceful at last.
Photo Credit: Pinterest (The Orange Seller)
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