Blueberry Dream

Went berry picking with mother, in the summer;
She told me, pick the ones that are bright and ripe and juicy.

But I wondered, should we pick the berries
From behind the brambles, too?

And pick the ones that dropped
Up off the ground?

She said, the faded ones,
The rain doesn't reach,

And there are some you shouldn't pick
Like ones from dying trees.

But I thought, if not, they'll hide
And wither with the weather.

So, I went back and popped
A lonely blueberry into my bucket.

Said, the sweetest one mightn't be as blue
As the brightest berry according to you.

Should we try to re-enact
What we now lack?

The common sense of how to lose
By pick and choose.

Don't judge;
There might be a dream you walk into.