On the roadside stood
a huge mango tree
full of flowers.
The tree bore a mango
coloured golden yellow
juicy and sweet.
The children eyed it
The squirrel poked it
And the birds pecked it.
The wind cradled it
cut its tender stalk
Down came the mango.
The golden yellow mango
fell on the road
wounding its skin.
A car to Calicut
rode on the mango
spilling its pulp.
A truck to Mumbai
ran on the mango
crushing its seed.
The golden yellow mango,
hit with a terrible fate,
died on the road.
Blossoming Soul 
wat were u thinkin' dear…. such a terrible end. indeed this is fate.
Thanks, Ms.Latka Mishra, for your comment.
I just happened to see a mango tree on the roadside, which inspired me to write this poem.
well.. i guess almost everything and everyone ends like that..
Perhaps. I try to focus on the sunnier side of life. But I write poems of this kind when I feel sad.