I peel my own orange.

 There are hands, trying to take me to the orange tree,

There are hands, dying to peel the orange for me,

There are wolves, waiting to snatch the orange from me,

There are mouths, asking to take the load off me.

With each step, through the dark forest and blinding storm,

I will grasp the fruit, feel its weight, warm in my palm.

For in this crowd in between chaos, I will stand firm,

To reach out to the orange tree on my own terms

I have walked the lonely path, through fields and woods,

Where others falter, I stride with resolute steps,

I will peel this orange myself, through blood and sweat,

Piece by piece, strip by strip, till the sweetness is revealed.

My hands may tremble, my legs may ache,

But I will peel this orange, for my own sake,

Be it a test of  my strength,

A journey only I can undertake, no matter the length.

The world offers help, hands extended in aid,

But in this life, my challenge, is mine to face, 

So let the wolves howl, let the mouths open,

Their voices cannot sway me, their hands cannot hinder,

For as long as my hands can move, as long as I draw breath,

I will peel my own orange, defying even death.

In this orchard of life, I stand hear listening,

Rooted in my resolve, strong and unwavering,

With each peel, I uncover the sweetness of my spirit,

A song of perseverance, a chorus only I can hear it.

Till the day my hands can no longer move,

Till the day my legs can no longer stand,

I will peel my own orange, with strength and grace,

For in this happening, I find my true self,

In the struggle and the triumph, in the solitude and the strength,

I peel my own orange, 

So sit with me, 

Share the moments, the laughter, the tears. 

Take a piece of the orange, taste its sweetness, and know that it comes from a place of hard work and self reliance. But understand this: the peeling is mine and only mine.  Till the day my hands can no longer move, till the day my legs can no longer stand,

 I will peel my own orange.