Some Call This Life Poem by Constantinos Grigoriadis

Don't search for apples anymore.
The apple tree has died.
It gaves all the apples that it had.
Now it is nothing more than a piece of wood.
Nobody has interest for an apple tree without apples.
Nobody gives it some water to survive.
Not even the dry mother earth.
Nobody.
This is the fate for every apple tree that has nothing to give.
This is the fate of everything alive being on the earth.
This is the law of nature.
Some call this life.