The Tragic Story of the Fruit Bunch
by Vir Mattoo, Beverly Hills Primary School
Years 5 – 6 Performance Poetry Finalist
We were the bunch, so juicy and bright, Waiting for someone to take a big bite.
We lived on the tree, just having some fun, Soaking up rays from the golden sun.
But then we were left, feeling quite forgotten, And soon our skins were starting to rot.
Then came a man, he plucked us away, He didn’t care much for a lovely display.
He tossed us in back, of his rumbling scoot, The ride was so bumpy, the journey was moot.
He drove to his town, through a dark, dusty street, Far from our orchard, and far from a treat.
He placed us on racks, in a room that was chill, Where the air felt heavy, and everything still.
He took out a syringe, and injected us red, “You’ll look better soon,” the man simply said.
We panicked and wobbled, felt sick and dizzy, The man kept on pacing, and getting quite busy.
He poured out his beakers, mixing a solution, While we suffered inside from the man’s execution.
My skin turned fake, a bright, shiny glow, But I felt a pain that started to grow.
The orange beside me started to shake, He said, “I’m feeling a terrible ache.”
The sickness moved fast, it jumped from my skin, To the apple nearby, who was fragile and thin.
One little bruise that started in me, Spread to the others,it was plain to see.
When one of us spoiled, the rest had to go, Caught in a trap that we didn’t quite know.
If one gets neglected, or lonely, or sad, The whole bunch will suffer, and turn a bit bad.
The man checked his beakers, “It’s still not right!” He grumbled and paced in the middle of night.
He didn’t notice the rot spreading wide, With nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.
We’re weak as a feather, all lying here, Full of the sickness, and full of the fear.
We wanted a picnic, a lunch, or a snack, But now we are stuck on this terrible rack.
It’s funny to think, about fruit in a bowl, How one little problem can take such a toll.
Like humans at school, or at home with a friend, How we treat each other is where it all ends.
If you are mean, or you push someone down, You’ll turn their smile to a sad, grey frown.
But if you are kind, like the sun on the tree, You’ll make the whole bunch feel happy and free.
So be careful who you are, what you do, Because everything spreads from me onto you.
Don’t be the rot, or the needle, or pain, Be the bright sunshine, and be the soft rain.
For a bunch is a team, and a team has to care, To make sure there’s goodness for all of us there.
So choose to be sweet, and choose to be bright, And help everyone find their own happy light.
The tragedy isn’t that fruit gets a stain, But how we treat others and cause them such pain.
So look at the bowl, and look at the friend, And choose to be kind, right until the very end.
How did writing this poem make you feel?
Writing this poem made me feel thoughtful and connected to the message behind it. While i was writing this poem i realised the fruit was a symbol for person and how are actions can affect others. It made me think how kindness, bullying and support can spread from one person to another, just like the rot spreading through the fruit bunch. I felt proud in the end, as the simple idea about fruit turned into a deeper message about caring for others.
Which single line in your poem are you the absolute proudest of?
The single line I am the absolute proudest of is ‘while we suffered inside from the man’s execution’ because it captures the secret terror of the fruits. It makes you imagine them trapped in the bowl, watching a giant mad scientist mix dangerous liquids and wondering which fruit will be chopped up next.
Describe your poem in three words
Imaginative, experimental, intense.
Where is your absolute favourite place to sit when you are brainstorming ideas?
My absolute favourite place to sit when brainstorming is in my own room in total silence with no distractions. To get a live experience, I physically build the scene by putting out an actual fruit bowl and surrounding it with science books and a messy room so it feels like a real lab, which helps me generate the best ideas.
What skills do you think you strengthened through writing this poem?
I think i strengthened my creativity, storytelling skills, imaginary skills. I learned how to take a simple idea, like a bunch of fruit, and turn it into a story with a deeper meaning. I also improved my ability to use rhyming, descriptive words.
Why do you think people write poetry?
I think people do write poetry, as it give them a way to express thoughts, feelings, memories, emotions and ideas in a creative and meaningful way.