You might be affronted at first, by my hairy monster façade. You’ll move straight onto the prettier cherries. Be charmed by the more comedic banana. Chances are you won’t even make it through my spiky exterior. You’ll never know that inside I’m as lush and iridescent as an emerald hill. Or that biting into me, I’m zingier and squelchier than any of your fluffy apples.
Perhaps that’s why I sometimes feel like a bit of a lemon.