Apple my favorites’ fruit of all apart from grapes,
I like them to, but they are too small
Cantaloupes I like they are a juice  orb
But an apple I can carry in my pocket.

I like to hold it in my hand and looking at it,
Trying to recollect any figure I could recall.
Sometimes it reminds me of a red leather ball
Sometimes it reminds me of a ****** rose with stick and all  
Sometimes it don’t look like that at all

I look at it with great heed, it isn’t circle, it isn’t oval
And it most definitely not square at all.

Some apple’s are sweet some are not
Sometimes i peel of the skin and other times I eat them raw
I sink my teeth in it and bit out the biggest morsel of them all
Shredding it to its bones in not more bite then bite number 3 or 4

And then looking at it trying to recollect any figure I could recall
Sometimes it reminds me of a sand clock,
Sometimes it reminds me of a crescent moon, two in all,
Sometimes it don’t look like that at all

But whatever shapes it may take no matter what texture  
Apple will always remain my favorite fruit not the green ones they are bitter
I like deep coral color apple, kind that my father bring they are softest & sweetest of them all