Answer:
Patch upon patch, without any stitches, if you tell me this riddle, I'll give you my breeches.
The leaves are on the fruit, the fruit on the leaves. What is it?
A wonderful elixir, It is your fluid fixer. Gulp it down and turn like a concrete mixer. Dark as night and sweet as sin, It's like liquid heroin.
Men seize it from its home, tear apart its flesh, drink the sweet blood, then cast its skin aside.
A box without hinges, lock or key, yet golden treasure lies within. Who am I?
Brings the sky a lot closer.