Bitter apple
Ever easy to inscribe
On the campus of the matter
So unlike the sweet and ripe

Sour unwanted
Much complained and sworn upon
Is unhunted, though is always
Prayed all prayers on.

Lust
Will perish,
Plans be blown by a gun
Must
Mind cherish
The perpetual combustion of my heartbeat in the run.
Glee
And perfect
Lays in waste site of the head.
Sick,
Imperfect
Bakes my cheeks to red.

Sour
And bitter
Occupies my mind infinitely and
Burns
As phoenix
To be infinite in every end

Title versus novel
No one quotes an author
For a label is a dome
For the foreign's ever measured by the home

You can find a word in my
Sixteen stanzas of a rhyme
But as long as all my words are lies
There's your name and wisdom in its ice