The Fruit That Looms From My Labor
The fruit that looms from my labor,
Is more often than not...
Bittersweet.
And sometimes my tongue,
Spews less than tarts...
For those anticipating,
A display of ego accomplishments.
And they may get more heat...
With sweat expressed,
Than expected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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