For the one who is used to the purple plums,
filling the wicker basket to the brim,
will feel very, very glum,
to find not a single one on the tree's limb.
For the one who lived on plentiful fruit,
apples, mangoes, cherries, and pears,
all to sell for glorious loot,
now not a single penny will be theirs.
Those so used to the grapes always on the vine,
earning cash as they're sent to the vineyard,
so that they can be made into bitter-tasting wine,
and makers of oranges so used to citrus bombard.
Fruitless is what's wrong,
not one berry on the bush,
there hasn't been a single banana all along,
and for pie, nobody's made strawberry mush,
So never get too confident with what you've got,
because on any given day,
what was once a lot,
can completely be taken away.
