Bitter Apples Poem by Brian Freeman

Bitter apples wish to fall far from the tree which bears odious fruit, because this fruit doesn't want to be bitter.
One apple wants to be as sweet as a Christmas McIntosh baked in the oven at the home of the grand matriarch.

This apple contains the seeds of sacrifice.
The ones that if swallowed by others will grow flowers of immolation inside the sovereign souls stomach.
How could the sweet one have grown on sour branches?

'Chop down the tree with the axe of hubris! ' Says the demon seed, the one that grows inside of all of us.

'Never! ' Replied back by the humble, green, red, round orchid.

This apple chooses sugar over vinegar, prefers the soft smiles of sweet taste over the pink, puckered lips of a sour tongue.
This one knows better; only the sweet ones make it back to the eternal garden of Eden.

If this apple is blessed to bloom on the tree of knowledge, let it looks so foul that the devil wouldn't dare use the lascivious skins for fallacious temptations.

But if bitten by the teeth of curiosity, let the taste be a sweet perpetuity, and the regrets last forever.