"Who may you be?" words laced with leer.
'I'm a baby tomato; it's my first day here.'
"Why are you here?" condescension is key.
'I don't quite know; existence was ****** upon me.'
"And where are you headed, puny one?"
'I'm going to make my way towards the Sun.'
"What, then, if thou weres't to burn?"
'I'd stand tall; not so much as turn.'
"With this arrogance, you shall not survive.
Be like the others and venture not to strive."
The impressionable little tomato did blush, red-hued.
Seeds of ambition crushed even before they were strew'd.
"And who may you be..." the voice moves on.
A familiar epilogue- society had won.