Thin himself, the dim fruit, and the "beauty" he missed along the way, he gradually became a little confused.

Why can you only eat white fruits, look at them, those astute animals, not picky about what fruits, survival is like that

Prosperity.

At least it seems.

It's not easy to survive, so why make an artificial choice! He used to have enough fruit for himself to eat, but he made himself as thin as wood, don't he deserve these gifts of nature, isn't it ironic that he is now himself?!

White fruit! White fruit! Those four words echoed like a nightmare for him.

Since fate has chosen them to eat only white fruits, why did they let it be so scarce, could it be that fate has turned their backs on them and made them willing to suffer this kind of torture.

If that is the case, why should they be allowed to waste these most precious fruits, so how can they be abandoned? They need white fruits, and they suffer more than animals, and if they insist on eating only this white fruit, they are not destined to be as highly prosperous as animal populations, how can he choose instead of them?!

Raise your hands and look at the fingers that don't look like they're like bamboos, and you can see every link clearly.

He knew he needed food so badly, and he leaned against the thick trunk of the tree and looked up, the branches and vines covering the shadow of his white fruit.

Holding his withered fingers and clenching them into fists, he stood up against the trunk of the tree, for there had never been a multiple-choice question in his mind, for they had known in their hearts from the moment they were born that they could only eat white fruits, otherwise even if they had re-developed their populations, they would have been deprived of the meaning of life itself.

"White Fruit" poem recitation style (7) confused is in the hand, please wait a moment,

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