The little old lady stands before me,

An apple outstretched in her palm.

Though she is a stranger,

Her smile entices and her eyes are kind.

How could I doubt her intentions?

The glossy red fruit shines radiant and grand.

I reach out and take the apple from her hand.

My fingers roam over the red skin, finding no blemishes.

Sinking my teeth into its flesh, a sweet sap fills my mouth.

I close my eyes, savoring that first bite.

As I go in for another mouthful, my body starts to ache, 

And I realize the truth too late.

I gasp as I fall to the ground.

The apple rolls, exposing my sin.

What lay under the apple’s surface,

The poison the old woman hid.

Her kind smile now wicked, her eyes bleeding malice.

I look up at her, seeing her true colors.

Under her skin was a witch, rotten to the core.