Women are like fruits. If you like them, you’d have to climb up trees or
find ways to pick them down. They don’t just drop down unless they are
over ripe or they have been attacked by fruit bats. They come in all colors,
shapes and sizes but they are sweet. Ya, I mean most of them are sweet
lest you pluck them too young or that you are destined for lemons or
grapefruits. But not all fruits grow on trees. There are those that sprouts in
bunches on shrubs and there are those which curls in thorny twines as well
but for the very very lazy ones who thought it cumbersome to climb trees,
mother nature had some made to appease them. They are the ones that are
readily available and sits on the soil surface. They are the one person can’t
eat all type. One is thorny, sourish with rough skins so tedious to cut and
the other is smooth, thick skinned, fleshy, juicy but rotund like a ball.
Pineapples and water melons we called them. Still, they are sweet.