No Spare

Lately the filthy ground is so frozen that i couldn't stick my fingers in it; Though, i keep it in a square of molded ceramic; After this ruthless blow nothing will ever grow again in my formerly precious compost, one year it gave its best to pop out lovely marble-shaped tomatoes, as red as a heart, and as bright as a dry ruby, i gathered all this sheer offering in my palm, watching the frail plant stripped from its gems, appearing almost pitiful after i stole what was the ostensible tenderness from my vegetal friend, at that time i didn't realize it will be the last, i took the wonders born to my sight because i assessed it was kindly given up to me, i was greedy and careless, i devoured the magnificent creations like it was mine with no presents, no attention in return... not a word, i get strenght from it, proud and sure of my advantage, casting my shadow on a so openly generous creature; Now this is the end, the ground is as hard as steel and as cold as ice, and my desperate fingers keep wandering on the dents, stiff on that ceramic square, and no tears i shed would be enough to reanimate the love once given to me.