The Life of a Peach

Naked peaches lie upon the ground leaking their juice in arcs down individual blades of grass
And I wonder
"What mischievous force acts upon these peaches to drip their nectar upon the ground."
They are not rotting, but they are soft

Flies breeze around their sweet pulp looking for an excuse to bring their meager tongues to its surface
As to not disturb it's morbid beauty
As much, this is what I think, in my personification of flies
But everyone knows that flies do not think

So this is how it must be
The peach falls and is trampled under by many a fly foot and tongue
To consider the emotion of a peach would be ludicrous as it thinks less than a fly
But still I can't help myself in the personification of a peach
Helpless, defenseless, laying upon the ground
Prodded and sapped by many a fly foot and tongue
And I feel regret for not protecting this peach
In its journey from bud to peach
From tree to unforgiving ground

But then again
Maybe it's not my responsibility to protect this peach
As all peaches know
How unforgiving this world can be