Answer:
Many people confuse me with a vegetable, but I'm actually a fruit. I'm red when I'm ripe, and I'm sliced and served on burgers.
Squeeze it and it cries tears. As red as its flesh, but its heart is made of stone.
What is eaten by man, served among many, grown by many, and white as snow?
The sun bakes them, The hand breaks them, The foot treads on them, And the mouth tastes them. What are they?
This food is usually grilled and put between two buns, with cheese, tomato and pickles.
What is it that makes tears without sorrow. And takes its journey to heaven?