Your Poetry Dot Com - A Bad Apple

You know what they say about apples,
They never fall far from the tree.
But you don’t know my tree,
For it hates its own seed.

Most grow and live on the branches,
Happy as can be.
But my tree quite simply
Never wanted me.

It pretends, sure
That its roots will cushion my fall.
But in reality,
It doesn’t care at all.

In the garden of hell,
The tree around itself revolves.
Perhaps it wasn’t ready
For what having an apple involves.

Nevertheless, you must try to love your apple,
Even though it’s a misfit.
You don’t just reject them
And claim they don’t deserve it.

But no sense of this
Does my tree possess.
Only over their other apples
Do they obsess.

So I fling myself
Off and away,
For beneath this bruised exterior
Lies inner decay.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ Chamaron