I Am An Apple Poem by Blake Bass

I am an apple,
I wonder if they are going to eat me?
I hear more falling from the tree,
I see the oven,
I want to be devoured.

I am an apple,
I pretend I am a pie,
I feel anxious staring at the stove,
I touch the blanket of the oven's heat.
I worry that I might start to rot,
I cry when others are overlooked,
I am an apple,

I understand how life goes,
I say to myself, it's a challenge to overcome.
I dream of one day of meeting the apple fritters at Shipleys.
I try my best to taste better than the rest,
I hope my devourer is served exquisitely well,
I am a apple.