Rasins

Oh small insignificant raisin who cares
what you were before or how you looked.
The point is you’re a raisin now. A small,
shriveled, brown, wrinkly raisin. No one will
know if you were a green grape before or
any kind of grape for that matter.

Perhaps while still being a grape you were
destined to become a fancy wine that
all the glamorous people drink. Maybe
juice a step lower from wine, but still important.
Or just plain grapes that people munch on.

Alright that’s a lie, you come in a box.
You were always a small insignificant raisin.
Your life expectancy isn’t long now that,
you are dried up but still retain a somewhat bitter taste.
No longer do people consider you a grape.
You are a raisin, a small wrinkly raisin in my salad.