A short poem about what one may be hiding under shining eyes, we must remember that the tears could be the sheen.

Beneath bright yellow peels, many people remain sour underneath, as we marinate in ourselves. No one is safe from the scrutiny of those who are sweet inside and out, who live perfect, undisturbed lives. 

From not realizing the worth of oneself, to breaking through that barrier, only to find who we really are. 

Lemons must hold that dearly, push the bright yellow peel harder than oranges and grapefruits, and use that shell to hide what we indeed are: a broken, sour mess, that wishes one could be as sweet as an orange.