Post more comments
Want a gift card for being active Forum member? Post comments and win $25 gift card every week.
Rules: will be giving away gift cards (worth $75 in total) every week to first three members ($25 each) who participate most in our forum discussions. You just have to post comments on forum pages, poet pages or poem pages anywhere inside
Comments posted needs to be in different pages. Posting more than 1 comment on the same page will only be counted once.
Members can not post comments without being logged in. has the right to cancel or edit this contest. has a right to disqualify or ban member(s) without providing any type of reason, belief or proof in regards to any type of illegal activity or fraud.

Cleo Blue

(Midnight / The Dark Cloud of Angels)


To everyone else I am strong
But you knew they were wrong
You saw the real me
The true me
Is that why you left

Did i rely on you too much?
Is it because i loved everything about you.. your care, your touch?
I know this is from
my perspective
But even when i try
to see it from yours
i dont know what i did

{Did she not like me?
I know she comes before me
Thats something that
i learned to see
No matter how much it hurt..}

Even thinking about it now
I still dont know how
You were able to leave
Knowing how much i need you

I heard girls were like apples
Some up high in a tree
Guys think its easier to get the rotten ones
Because they dont want to get hurt when they climb up the tree
So i was really excited when you picked me

After what? a bite? a sniff? A look?
You tossed me back..
No explaination...
The capability to love...
You threw me into a dark spot in the tree
Once i landed there i got bruised
You left me
Hurt and confused

So what happens
When someone else sees me
Practically hidden to deep to find
And they'll see all the marks
You left behind...

See what you've done to me?
Now..Out of every single tree
Who would want to pick me?

Submitted: Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, January 02, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

I did read something about girls being apples the best at the top of the tree... Guys pick the easy ones on the ground because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt when they climb the tree... So the ones at the top think there is something wrong with them when really they're amazing they just have to wait for the right boy to come along...Who will climb that tree straight to the top just to pick you... This is not necessarily about me its just about... a girl. But the verse in parenthitheses or the [] things you can pretend its not there to relate to the poem better

Comments about this poem (Apples by Cleo Blue )

Enter the verification code :

  • Joseph Somebody (whelan) (1/1/2013 5:40:00 PM)

    i have a poem called apple in a tree. sounds to me you may have read it. it also sounds like you know that somtimes we pick as we go. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley Updates

New Poems

  1. is Special Lust is Your Addiction?, LUVinThe NOW
  2. Never feel shy, hasmukh amathalal
  3. I LOVE YOU, Now, Let's Take Out The I an.., LUVinThe NOW
  4. Keep faith, hasmukh amathalal
  5. open fire on me, Marco Angelo
  6. Fall on death, hasmukh amathalal
  7. BECAUSE OF YOU, Colin Ian Jeffery
  8. Not that heavy words...., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
  9. The return of the sea's hero, Ellias Anderson C.A ( Known ..
  10. Why ash? ? ?, SALINI NAIR

Poem of the Day

poet George Gordon Byron

I Speak Not, I Trace...
by George Gordon Byron

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name;
There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame;
But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart
...... Read complete »

[Hata Bildir]