Bad Apple

Bad Apple

A Poem by John McDonald
"

I had a talk with my old legal guardian, I called her for a birthday, and while it was entirely pleasant, I know we were both thinking entirely different thoughts than what we communicated. This is about my youth with her I guess.

"

I'm a bad apple
Because you plucked me
From my tree
Instead of letting me grow;
Simply letting me be

You pulled me from my sustenance
Smiling ever wide
You opened up your gleaming whites
And took a bite from me

My sour taste; it filled your mouth
And in disgust, you threw me out

If only you'd have let me grow
I'd have ripened into something pleasant
I'd have overjoyed your senses

But now I lay on the Earth
Decaying into dirt
My seeds dispersing in the wind
Giving birth to next year's rotten fruit

© 2009 John McDonald


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Reviews

Your words ring with your eloquence, but moreso your truth.
It is a stunning, yet simple, yet complex poem that I was honestly delighted to read.
The analogy and words are just spectacular.
I'm exausted just re-reading it because it appears so simple.


And I always hate to sound stupid or obvious, but you know there is better. Don't produce rotten seeds!
I'm sorry for you, and you know i wish you the best.

Posted 15 Years Ago



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Added on March 6, 2009