The End of the Rainbow

The town of Rainbow Falls,
Was quite a site to see.
From red-tiled roofs and pristine homes,
To orchards of bountiful trees.

Those fruit trees provided food to Rainbow Falls,
And also a little bit of fame.
Their pantomime of waterfalls on the valley walls,
Gave the town its name.

So many wonderful colors of produce,
Were produced up in those leaves.
From oranges to golden bananas,
It was a sight hard to believe.

The town's greatest treat of all,
Hidden in the green and stems,
Was a fruit so very rare,
That they all belonged to them.

The fruit was navy blue,
And, even more shockingly, perfectly round.
The taste was so amazing,
It never had a chance to touch the ground.

In fact, loved so much,
Was this fruit they all revered,
That they became dependent,
And the other produce disappeared.

For ages long forgotten,
Things went on this way.
The town's life intertwined with the trees,
Until one fateful day.

One group of those vital trees,
Did something the town would never forget.
The blue fruit changed first to indigo,
And then to bright violet.

Now, a rose by any other name,
May always smell as sweet.
But a fruit of a different color,
Was something they simply would not eat.

They blamed the farmers, the pickers,
And every other creature.
Never once did they consider,
It was the will of mother nature.

Now a few folk, all women,
Thought the fruit looked alright.
But most of the people were disturbed,
And, predictably, wanted a fight.

Some argued it went against tradition,
To want the fruit and its juices held within.
And those who planned to eat the fruit,
Would be committing a terrible sin.

Others gazed upon the fruit,
And saw their lifestyle in danger.
And any time the fruit was mentioned,
It invoked in them great anger.

Still others thought of the fruit,
And believed everything was fine.
They figured it was just a mutation,
That would die out if given time.

It didn't really matter,
In what ways each group was wrong.
They all agreed upon the fact,
The purple fruit did not belong.

They prevented anyone from eating them,
And made it sound unwise,
By going through the town,
And spreading nasty lies.

And as those lies began to settle,
Stuck in the people's heads,
The purple fruit pulled another trick,
And it began to spread.

Generations passed on until,
The town thought those lies true.
By then the once mighty, blue waterfall,
Had turned a royal-purple hue.

The falsehoods made the people
Fear the trees on both their sides.
The waterfall crashing down all
Around without anywhere to hide.

So very hungry, but all the while
Abstaining from the fruit.
The people of the town,
Began to murder, cheat, and loot.

Eventually, with famine and crime
Pulling the people down,
The purple fruit saw the end,
Of the ill-fated little town.

Having never touched the purple fruit,
I now wonder what the townspeople would say,
To learn that on the inside, the purple
And blue fruits are identical in every single way.