The farmer comes with a bucket.

Your very best friend.

Walking towards you.

You watch him bend down over your brother

And pull him away, tossing him into the bucket.

You can hear his scream from outside the plastic.

Your heart beats fast.

He reaches down, over your head.

His wide hand enclosing upon you.

You feel his fingers

And you are suddenly yanked and tossed with the others.

Cold water runs over you as

The dirt and grime run into the sink below.

After the icy bath, you wonder when you'll get home.

As the farmer's wife picks you up, you feel a cold chill down your spine.

She picks up a sharp, flat object.

You shut your eyes tight.

You feel severe burning and you look down.

There are strips of orange beneath you.

You've lost the outer layers of your skin!

But before you could weep,

Out of the corner of your eye,

You see a thin sheet of metal.

Slice!

You look over at

Your former neighbor.

Who was now in two.

The same farmer,

Your long time friend,

Plops you on the butchering table.

The wood, saturated with blood;

Evidence of an Orange sacrifice.

The shine of metal, you close your eyes.

Slice!

It seems your death is imminent.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~--~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~--~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

So, a bit of backstory, 

I had this random thought about what life would be like if you were a carrot. And then this happened. I'm thinking about writing a sequel to this poem, so let me know if you'd like to see that!

-ThePoetsInk