I am the banana,
You, my murderer,
Are a fat little boy,
Hungry for his sweets.

My skin is thick,
and yellow from
the jundice and lice
speckles my creamy white
blood.

You peel me in the basement,
and make me eat a walnut
so your parents will not hear
the screams.
A towel collects the blood,
which is everywhere.

Strawberry syrup spills
on the ground,
Caramel seeps from my butt,
and you make me sleep in it,
halfway peeled
for three weeks.

Sugar drop tears fall from
my banana face.
See how they sprinkle the ground,
funfetti in a cake.

Now for the chocolate sauce,
hot and heavy, which replaces the caramel.
I am sick. Like a dog I have worms, or
Banana strings seeping through
the Chocolate syrup.

I am ripe.

Pick me.

You slowly split me from the bottom.
You cover me in whipped cream,
and have you way.
I am dead.
You eat me.
I am in your belly.

Soon, I will be nothing
but your chocolate syrup
in the sewer.