Infant tantrum all emotion, little insight does it possess
Pain's response vented in tears no control, patience even less
Young fruit is green, holds hard to the tree, sucking from mother's blood
As it grows it's ripeness shows, juicier than the bud
Soon it loosens matures and is no longer bitter to the taste
From the bough picked this fruit can not be replaced
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: May 19th, 2026 02:56
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 102
- Users favorite of this poem: Priya Tomar, Paul Bell, Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: Life.

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Comments16
good write my friend, much enjoyed
Thank you Norman for the read and kind words of comment they are most appreciated
The poem describes different stages of life .
Brilliant write .
Thanks so much Priya for the read and comment it is deeply valued
Here we have the stages of a person from infant to maturity. Starting with lack of control and reaching full control.I find the poem enlightening.Excellent
Thank you David for your review and understanding comment it is most appreciated
Nicely written, from growth, maturity, and the emotional journey from infancy to adulthood.
Thanks so much my friend for the review and comment it is again appreciated
You're very welcome, my friend.
Excellent metaphoric. Loving the images and movement of maturation🙏🏻🕊️
Thanks so much Cryptic Your remarks are always most valued and appreciated
There’s a raw, almost biological honesty in this—growth laid out like weather turning from storm into fruit.
And underneath it all, a quiet sense of irreversibility, like nothing ripens without being changed forever.
Thanks so much my friend for your read and most insightful comment it is again deeply appreciated
Adults have so many emotions and so little judgment .Could we say they've remained in the stage of childhood ?
Some have remained others regressed. Thanks for the read my friend and the comment
Good write SB. KP was looking grumpy, so I gave her some literal sour grapes! lol.
Thanks Orchi for the read and comment. You know those are used to make wine could she be a bit tipsy?
Yes lol. She says 'Moresh grapesh pleash'. lol.
Having conquered many a tree in my youth, and been punished by the tree for missing a branch in climbing, I feel you have to congratulate the tree for the indignity it must have felt, but also the little victories it won bringing up the youth of the day sending them into adulthood.
Thanks Paul for the review and comment. Yes I have climbed many a tree in my day as well and injured them driving nails for tree houses
An awesome poem on motherhood and children which can be trying indeed. Kudos for the fab muse!
Plz also read and comment my newest poem too
Thank you so much for the read and kind review it is most appreciated
Fine use of the Metaphor here. Good One.
Thank you so much Kevin for the read and comment it is deeply appreciated
Love this, Soren. What struck me most was the image of the fruit loosening from the bough once it matures. That quiet transition carries so much meaning…growth, independence, inevitability, even mortality. And the final reminder that it cannot be replaced gives the poem real emotional depth. Wonderfully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks so much Tristan your words mean a lot to me and are deeply appreciated my friend
But that picked fruit will return soren and all will grow again.
Andy
Thank you Andy if the seeds are planted it will
It's difficult to find fruit ripened on the tree, these days.
Thank you so much for the read and comment it is most appreciated yes it is true where even human fruit left on the tree well past ripening time does not ripen
I love the way you manipulate words very beautifully written
You are most kind thank you so much for the read and comment
I was literally imagining a ripe mango, reading this. Well done friend!
Thank you so much Samprikta for your review and comment. A mango would serve well indeed.
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