Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
A lonely woman stands in the distance As the apple of her eye is perusing the apples That sit on display outside the market She watches her apple grab a basket This woman waits in the cold February breezes To catch her forbidden fruit emerge When said apple steps outside Her heart pulls her like a toddler to follow As her eyes focus on her beloved subject Her feet begin to pace in slow motion The subject so far away now like in a tunnel Her mind interjects with words that hurt Leave that apple hanging on the tree Along with its happy family Pick not what isn't yours and never was Return to your own empty branches Where you shall hang alone
0
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
The Apple
A lonely woman stands in the distance As the apple of her eye is perusing the apples That sit on display outside the market She watches her apple grab a basket This woman waits in the cold February breezes To catch her forbidden fruit emerge When said apple steps outside Her heart pulls her like a toddler to follow As her eyes focus on her beloved subject Her feet begin to pace in slow motion The subject so far away now like in a tunnel Her mind interjects with words that hurt Leave that apple hanging on the tree Along with its happy family Pick not what isn't yours and never was Return to your own empty branches Where you shall hang alone
Written by
47/F/New York
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem