(A Poetic Caution with a Smile)
Everyone wants a low hanging fruit,
No climbing, no sweat, just pick and scoot.
Better still if it drops in your lap,
Or rolls in your mouth with a sugar-snap clap!
In boardrooms they chant, “Let’s be astute!”
“Why toil when there’s a shortcut route?”
Forget the ladder, forget the strain,
Just stretch one arm and cash the gain.
Now “smart work” is the trend du jour,
Effortless glory? Yes, sir! Sure!
But pause a sec, take off that suit—
Who planted that conveniently low fruit?
Some soul with patience and dirty nails,
Weathered storms and bore some fails.
He watered dreams, pruned every shoot,
Till finally, one day, came that juicy fruit.
Enter the crowd, oh what a show!
“Let’s pluck what’s ripe and hanging low!”
They grab and tug with practiced flair,
While the planter stands with a silent stare.
And here’s the twist—if all stoop down,
Who’ll reach for fruits with golden crown?
Those higher ones, with richer taste,
Might rot away, a tragic waste.
The low ones tempt, they’re close and sweet,
But often come with elbow heat.
So many hands for just one prize—
Miss it? “Bah! Sore grapes!” someone cries.
So next time you see a fruit hang low,
Thank the guy who made it grow.
And maybe, just once, try a higher leap—
The view’s much better, the reward, deep.
Guchi
Improve Your Life 