July 13, 2009
Apple falls from the tree
And onto the ground.
Apple just begins to rot
Then you come around.
You take Apple in your hands
And bring Apple inside.
You decide to keep Apple
And Apple thinks your so kind.
Then one day you look at Apple
And notice some decay.
You take out your white canvas
And decide to paint Apple in a perfect way.
You ignore the real Apple
And hang up the ripe, red fruit.
You prefer your version of Apple,
How could you be so crude?
Apple wishes you never found her,
You were not the person Apple thought.
If you were just going to paint an imposter,
You should’ve just let Apple rot.

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