About this poem:

I came from a broken home and was thrown from pillar to post. I would stay with an aunt and uncle for a time. Then with a lady-friend of my dad's. But the best time of my life growing up was when I got to stay with my grandparents.
The part about the tomato is true. My grandpa would sometimes take a salt shaker with him in his shirt pocket when he went out to tend the garded. He'd pick a tomato, lick it and then sprinkle salt on it and eat it. Well, "monkey see, monkey do"! One day he went to the garden and I followed. I started eating cherry tomatoes. He noticed and said, "Hey! Stop eating the tomatoes". I replied "But, you eat them all the time!" And Grandpa said "You just wait for supper". So, I still had one cherry tomato left in my hand. And, he made me angry with his one-way business,so, I hauled off and threw that tomato at him whilst he was bent over. The tomato just missed hitting him in the head by an inch or so. I got so scared at the thought of what would have happened had I connected, that I almost peed my britches.