The Mouldy Orange

[Stephen Whiteside]

I saw a mouldy orange in the supermarket yesterday.


The Mouldy Orange

Stephen Whiteside 10.10.2012

I'm a mouldy orange. Alone, just me.
The others have all got off scot free.
They sit on the shelf in the prime of life.
It's only me that's got into strife.

I'm a mouldy orange. A thick white cloud
Hangs 'round me like a deathly shroud.
What did I do to deserve this fate?
Was I picked too early? Perhaps too late?

Did I grow too low? Did I grow too high?
Did I glow too bright in the midday sky?
Is my flesh too juicy? My taste too sweet?
Am I victim, say, of excessive heat?

Was the air too warm in the orchard store?
What did the mould single me out for?
I'm one of the bunch. We are all the same.
Why's it only me that has lost the game?

Did I challenge the mainstream paradigm?
Am I really a most unusual lime?
A shrunken grapefruit? A large cumquat?
The hub of some wild political plot?

I'm a mouldy orange. It won't be long
Till they pluck me out from this merry throng
And chuck me into the compost bin.
I'm a mouldy orange. That's my sin.