Lemon Aid

The farmer snips me off.
Away from all my friends.
She throws me in a bag.
I felt the branches bend,
Their pain I cannot mend.

She takes us all inside.
She puts us in a bowl.
We sit there for a week;
Our pride she has not stole.
This waiting takes it's toll.

I watch my friends get killed.
All slaughtered one by one.
Why does she torture us
And make our pulses run?
I want it to be done!

She finally picks me up.
On the cutting board I'm laid.
The knife is lowered down,
Please, give this lemon aid!
Too late, I'm cut in twain.

My juices all spill out
Upon this counter top.
She squeezes out my life
With every little drop.
I wish for her to stop.

My life is finally done,
And so this story, too.
With lifeless rind and seed
I bid you all adieu.
I bid you all, adieu.