We are like a pomegranate
Sweet sometimes sour
Slow to peel
Thick skins
Hard to digest
We come apart bit by bit
Gently
Lest we squash under the pressure
And all the lovely juice go to waste
There's so many seeds
Of love, care, secrets and doubts
So many fears
Grit between our teeth
Mother we are exotic
And foreign
Expensive yet stubbornly brown in the sun
Refusing to be sold
For price has no meaning
Loyalty does
We colour the ones who are worthy
Bold and bright
The hues of a rose