Apples Poem by Lauren Joy
Apples
Apples falling to the ground
Hitting the soft, warm earth
Stirring the scent of death and decay
In the wake of a little girl's curse
Apples rotting in the ground
Amidst flesh, skin and bones
Blood from the fruit swelling with her tears
As the little girl silently moans
Apples reproducing for the ground
Spreading their venomous seed
Reinstating the bittersweet curse
From which she will never be free
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 8:15:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Wonderful description! Beautifully penned. I actually abhor apples, but this poem is excellent. Odd topic, but you have made it interesting using poetic and writing techniques. good job. Jake