when life gives you lemons,
make lemonade,
they say

but what if life gave you
a lemon tree,
and the lemons just keep coming?

what if, try as you might
to take in stride each bearing of the fruit,
and you make and make and make
but you just get tired?

you tire not only of the lemons,
but of the knowing more lemons
are surely going to grow,
of the knowing that you’re just going to have to keep on making

I suppose you should accept
that this is your tree,
and it’s yours to harvest whatever
may come from it,
whatever blooms from the manner
in which you fertilize it

but sometimes,
it just sprouts unexpectedly,
and you just want to throw lemons

look out