Jacques Maurice

Rookie - 0 Points (New Orleans)

V - Poem by Jacques Maurice

The apple rolled slowly down the aisle
And stopped at the heel of his boot.
He turned and saw its warm red glow,
Then stooped to pick up the fruit.

The altar was quiet, but no one heard
The demon's laughing hiss.
The apple soon would take its toll,
Beginning with a kiss.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 12, 2011

Poem Edited: Wednesday, September 14, 2011

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