Today I mourned a strawberry, a red-through strawberry, a sweet-through strawberry. I mourned seeds that would clone it a thousand times over. I felt sad for cream that wouldn't turn pink from twirling. I felt mad at mandatory sugar. I yearned for that strawberry as I stared eyeball to collander-ful of imposters ~ bruised from jostling each other in evil anticipation of their deceipt, crunchy from impatience, bland with apathy.