The injustice of grapes

A bunch of grapes, so round and sweet,

A summer treat, a tasty treat.

But hidden deep, a secret lies,

A tale of woe, beneath their guise.

For they are crushed, a painful plight,

Their juice extracted, in the night.

Their skins are peeled, a cruel decree,

A fate unfair, for you and me.

They long to hang, upon the vine,

To bask in sun, to drink the wine.

But they are plucked, a bitter fate,

A victim of man's cruel estate.

So let us pause, before we eat,

And ponder well, this bitter feat.

The grapes' great grievance, a hidden crime,

A cruel injustice, through all time.