Lady Like Apple
She is like an uneven circle,
With damaged memories dented into her skin.
She can be smooth and kind to the outer world,
But can be bumpy and dreadful in a click.
She smells of sweet tough grass,
And flows like water from here to there.
Everyday you notice her grow old,
Changing her mind and discouraging the truth.
Her poor mind is bruised,
With the harsh memories that stalk her in style.
Yet deep inside her,
She is bright, stronger, more sour.
Her is a star, always looking out for other.
Yet her anger and sadness slowly surrounds her star,
Keeping her locked away from the world.
She covers her feelings,
With her anger and shame.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Lady Like Apple by Milo Sena )
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(3rd April 19sixty)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
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