You are an apple.
Outside, smooth and clear
No blemishes:
A glossy film of perfection.
Yet dig deep
And you will find browned flesh
rotten from wretched thoughts,
Made foul by cruel words.
No life is left in your core.
How wise the insects are
To sense the nature of a fruit by its scent.
But how gullible are people:
To pick the most beautiful.